Trapped on Sanghelios
by EK10
Summary: When a young mountain man loses his family and his homeworld, he is captured by the Covenant. He manages to escape but only to crash-land on Sanghelios: the homeplanet of the main military force of the Covenant. After having lost everything, and with everything going wrong for him, can this boy dig deep enough to find the grit to survive? Can he escape his ten million mile prison?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Introduction

On the side of a mountain in the middle of nowhere on the planet Kholo, a fifteen year old boy sat on a stump. His name was Diesel. He had black hair that hung down to his lean shoulders, and had hard hazel eyes that, if he were to give a serious frown, could pierce another person's soul. His features where thin and sharp but not because of malnutrition. He was well fed. He had black scruff that was coming into his features, that matched the color of his hair, growing on his jaw line and upper lip, which indicated his youthful self was soon to flower into manhood. His pants were fashioned of a black bear's skin, with moccasins to match. He wore no shirt but had dog-tags dangling from his neck as he chewed a sprig of grass that was hanging out of his mouth. His upper body was lithe and lean but very strong, reminding one of a tightly braided raw-hide whip. He was surprisingly strong for his size as he only massed at about 150 pounds but could lift up to 200 pounds to his chest only using his arms. His fingers were also very strong and relatively thick for his figure. They displayed a few scars from past mistakes, accumulated, mostly, from work. All in all, he was a very healthy, well built young man.

He sat there silently working with his eyes fixated on his task, giving his personage the appearance of an intensely focused tiger, steadily scraping his knife back and forth on the underside of an elk's skin.

He had spent the past hour tirelessly scraping the flesh off the hide of that newly killed elk, and was hardly half-way done. This was the fifth elk hide he had to tan that spring, and chances were: this was far from the last one. While elk were not indigenous to Kholo, they still thrived in the local ecosystem.

Earlier that morning, Diesel had used an MA5B to shoot the elk that happened to be grazing only about two hundred meters outside his cabin. The MA5B wasn't standard, though. He had modified the rifle himself by taking all of the electronic components out to turn the gun into an analog firearm. This made it impossible to be digitally traced and much easier to maintain and a bit more reliable. He and his brother had done the same to all of their weapons, actually.

Earlier that morning, Diesel's older brother,Boomer, had departed to go to the nearest town. It had been two years since either of them had last ventured into any civilized settlement, and only for the purpose of purchasing new clothes, ammunition for their bows and guns, and the like. It was only a five hour round trip on horseback, so Boomer was expected to return in the early afternoon.

They didn't have much money, only whatever a couple of mountain men could sell, like wild berries to the relatively nearby farmers, or tanned pelts to those who might have been into that kind of fashion, or, perhaps most profitable, selling whiskey because most people would buy it.

Kholo was mostly a rural farming planet with only a few major cities world wide, and so the local government hardly had the care to trace the distribution of liquor (of all things), particularly in rural areas. Plus the Covenant pulled most of the attention from such issues. This gave Boomer and Diesel an ability for easy cash with little chance of any law-dogs being a problem.

Over the years of living in the mountains, the two brothers became well versed in crafting their own primitive weapons, traps, clothes from animal skins, and foraging for food, but they always kept some contemporary technology at their disposal just in case anything happened.

Diesel sniffed the air and smelled what he had expected at any minute. The liquor mash he had made from wild fruit a couple weeks ago was now finishing its fourth distilling procedure. What was four-times distilled whiskery for, one might ask? It wasn't for drinking. The intense alcohol that was being brewed was intended to be used as a solvent to clean things, like dirty guns.

Diesel had other batches of "gun solvent" already made, but constant consumption demanded constant production.

There was one time that the whiskey supply had ran out, and the guns needed to be cleaned, so Boomer had the brilliant idea of using his own pee as a solvent. In theory the uric acid would act as alcohol normally would in gun-solvent. It did work, and the guns were clean, but peeing down the barrel of a gun was far from preferable. It also smelled bad for a few days.

Diesel set the animal skin onto the pole he used to help work hides, and went to attend to the nearly completed liquor batch. It wasn't a very impressive pole. It was merely a thin log that Boomer had cut, scraped, and placed into a hole in the ground to keep it upright, but it did its job.

It was less than a minute later that the distilling process was complete. Diesel put out the fire that was under the pot, which was filled with mash, proceded to place the clear lightning into bottles, and put it away in the cellar, which was located in an underground basement under the cabin.

He went right back to work on tanning the hide. He continued this for ten minutes when he heard the sound of hoofsteps in the distance on the forest floor. Diesel knew that Boomer was approaching with the supplies he had left to get.

Diesel looked up from his work to see his brother just coming into view as he rode his bay colored stallion up the side of the mountain with a full pack of supplies fastened securely to the back of his horse.

Boomer was a giant of a man who stood seven-foot-two and almost weighed four hundred pounds. He was twenty-three years old now, with dark blond hair that, like his brother, hung down to his shoulders. His curly dark blond beard covered his whole face in a single, bushy growth of course scruff. His eyes were blue and serious but held an air of calm self-confidence, and fatherly comfort and wisdom. Unlike his brother, his features were broad and thick. His bulky hands were like steel vices, his jaw even more so. His muscular arms were the size of most men's legs and his chest resembled that of his own horse.

Boomer reached the cabin, dismounted, and began unpacking. All the while, Diesel continued to scrape the hide.

Diesel was almost done. Twenty more minutes and the hide would be thoroughly scraped and be ready for the brain solution he had mixed earlier.

Diesel halted his work and averted his eyes from what he was doing to his brother when he heard Boomer ask, "Where's the elk meat?"

Diesel knew that Boomer was referring to the elk he had shot earlier that day. In response, Diesel simply pointed his knife at the smoking-shed that was built out of logs. Boomer glanced over the shed and noticed that there was no smoke emanating from it, which indicated that Diesel hadn't started smoking the meat for some reason.

Boomer returned his attention to the teenager sitting on the stump, and asked, "The meat ain't done bleeding?"

Diesel simply shook his head in response.

Diesel was always a quiet person. Even as a baby he never cried much and was a man of few words, but often, when he did speak, he usually had something meaningful to say and spoke concisely; saying much in only a few words, mostly only to his close family, like his parents or his brothers.

When it came to people outside of his immediate family he always preferred to stay away from the attention and simply observe the other people interact with each other and about what was being said. He was always a good listener.

Despite his strong and silent nature, he never refused to ask his family for any help that he needed. He was diligent and would persist on any given task with rarely ever giving a complaint. He was rather smart too. He had a gift for learning languages, both verbal and gestural. This gave him the ability not only become fluent in Russian and Mandarin by the time he was ten, but also aided his natural "way with animals", prey and predator alike. Since then, he had mastered Hungarian and was semi-fluent in Spanish, and was advancing fast.

He enjoyed learning languages not because he wanted to communicate with other people ,necessarily, but to understand what others where communicating, especially if it involved information that concerned him. Although almost everyone knew English, there were still a large portion of humanity that primarily spoke different tongues. For instance, most people from New Harmony spoke Slavic languages and much of Reach's population spoke Hungarian.

One time, when he was about his business in town, buying some cheep pots to make a whiskey still, he overheard a couple of adolescents, who were sitting on a nearby bench, speaking in Russian; commenting on his unusual appearance of animal skin clothing, and their own suspicions that he might be hiding from the local authorities. This prompted him to finish his affairs quickly and get out of town, just in case there might be trouble involving him. It was a good thing too, because when he exited the town he observed the two previous people through his pair of binoculars, talking to a couple of local police. Diesel figured the situation most likely concerned himself.

His ability to understand the other predominant inter-planetary languages undoubtedly gave him an edge in situations in which people might have tried to exclude information from him that could give him an advantage for any reason.

The best part was that no one, other than his family, knew of his polyglot capabilities. The ignorance of others concerning any of his abilities was one of his more powerful tools to use against other people.

Boomer was just as calm and level headed as his little brother but was much more personable. He was the one that always did the talking, and was the one who taught Diesel all there was to know about conducting business in town. While he didn't have Diesel's prodigious ability to learn languages, he learned a little bit from his brother and ,occasionally, the two would practice by having conversations in whatever language Boomer wanted to practice.

Boomer always seemed to have the wisdom to make the right choices regardless of the problem or situation. He was always calm and never seemed to loose his temper, and no matter what, he always looked after his brother and put whatever family he had left as the first and foremost priority.

They trusted each other wholeheartedly. They stuck together no matter what, and never let anyone or anything come between them. Regardless of the circumstances, they looked out for each other and watched each other's backs. They were brothers.

Boomer finished unpacking his horse, Tucker, and proceeded to put him back in his pasture. The two brothers had constructed a fence out of logs over a couple of summers that held seven hectares. To keep their two horses separate, they put a cross-fence through it to roughly split the pasture into two equal halves. They kept the horses separate because the other was a mare.

The two brothers thought that one day they would like to raise a foal to be used primarily as a pack-horse, but at the current time they wouldn't be able to take proper care of three horses so they kept the two horses separated. After all, it was spring and that was the time that the mare, Korona, would start to get…fidgety.

Diesel had finally finished scraping the pelt clean of any flesh and brought it inside to begin the next step. As he continued working, Boomer attended to the elk carcass inside the smoke-shed. It had just bled out so it was ready for smoking. He picked up the blood-bucket and set it outside the shed. He then placed a sufficient amount of freshly cut green wood and placed it into the smoking-oven, which would vent into the shed, drying the meat and flavoring it with its smoky goodness.

Boomer waited until he could see smoke seeping out of shed before he was satisfied. He poured the bucket of blood onto the ground and washed it out in the stream that ran behind the cabin. He went inside to find that Diesel was nearly complete with his work for the day. After he was done spreading the brain material all over on both sides of the pelt, it would be placed in a cool damp area to absorb the oils of the brain for a day or so.

Neither brother had much work to do that day. It was now 15:00 and everything that was planned for that day was complete. After all, it was a Saturday. With that in mind, Diesel broke out a bottle of homemade 60 proof whiskey and tossed it to his brother. They both drank and just enjoyed the fact that they had the rest of the day off; to spend the rest of it just having a good time. They were both wise in their consumption, however, and never drank more than they could handle.

Diesel's mind wandered to past memories of his family. He was very little at the time, but he remembered that before the aliens had attacked and destroyed his home world, Eridanus II, his family helped fight the UEG's attempt to subjugate all of the colonies under a single government, even when it came to shedding blood. Many people called people like his family by many names: rebels, terrorists, insurgents, selfish anarchists, and the like. Diesel never denied that many of the insurrectionists were lawless rebels, who did terrible things in retaliation to many people who weren't even combatants. Some went even so far as to incarcerate whole neighborhoods under suspicion that they supported the UEG. Just like Diesel's family, they wanted their own freedom too, but went about securing it the wrong way.

But, the Boon family was different. They had a very clear set of moral standards that they, as a family, held with ardent conviction. They made it a point to only respond with lethal force when people, even the government, imminentley threatened to take their property or their lives. That was what distinguished the Boons from many of the other insurrectionists: they never harmed anyone that wasn't an immediate threat. They did everything in their own power to remain morally blameless.

But then, the aliens attacked, which caused the focus of the fighting to be directed toward the Covenant rather than other humans. Diesel was only six when it happened, but he vividly remembered how the Covenant's ships surrounded the planet and sent in ground troops and started attacking, just as they had done to many human colonies before. He remembered how his parents instructed Boomer and Diesel, the two youngest, to escape to the nearest ship for civilian evacuation. The two oldest brothers, along with their father, Axel, were to rescue their mother, Josephine, from the city. It just so happened that she had ventured into town to buy some parts for a truck when the planet was attacked.

While Boomer and Diesel borded a ship without much of a hitch, the rest of the Boon family had managed to board a ship as well. Both the ships managed to exit the planet's atmosphere, and all seemed okay. But then, a plasma beam from one on the Covenant Supercarriers had been fired into the ship that held most of the Boon family. Diesel and Boomer stood in silence as they watch everything transpire through a window. Boomer was only fourteen at the time.

They escaped to Kholo where they had lived in the secluded mountains ever since.

Diesel lifted his gaze to his brother. Boomer understood that his little brother was about to say something.

"You think they'll find us here?" Diesel asked.

Boomer knew exactly what Diesel was talking about so he responded, "I don't know, man. They have destroyed every human colony they've come across, and the UNSC hasn't been successful in pushing them back. But who knows? They might not locate this planet. I suppose all we can do is wait and keep our fingers crossed."

Diesel nodded in understanding.

The time was approaching 19:00 and the two had their work cut out for them, come tomorrow. With that, they each crawled into their own hammocks and prepared to get up early in the morning, 04:00 to be precise.

"Good night, bro," Boomer said.

"Night," Diesel responded.

They both shut their eyes and fell into a deep sleep, leaving the house still and quiet, with only the sound of the little midnight critters from outside to break the silence.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Nightmares of the Past (part 1)

It was a bright summer day. The sun was shining and a tranquil breeze drifted across the mountainous landscape. Diesel's dad, Axel, was teaching his son the basics of setting animal snares of all sizes for hunting. Diesel had already mastered the technique of snaring rabbits and was advancing with snaring other things, such as deer and wild cats.

Boomer was busy back at the house, building a hydrolyzer from old stainless steel sheet metal and some PVC pipe. Once he was finished, it would be retrofitted into the truck as a fuel supplement. This, in turn, would reduce the consumption rate of the usual fuel, making the cost of driving the truck around less expensive.

Diesel's mother, Josephine, had drove into town with the truck because it needed a replacement spare-tire as well as some transmition work. When she got back, Boomer would be ready to install the hydrolyzer.

Diesel's two oldest brothers, Jacob and Dirk, had taken the horses for a ride on a hunting trip. The intended prey today was elk.

It was nearing noon, and Axel was becoming hungry. He had finished instructing Diesel on constructing the loop-hole snare, and his son had aptly set it up.

"It's about lunch-time, son," Axel said, "How 'bout we get something to eat?"

Diesel lifted his head with a smile, and nodded to his father, indicating he wished to eat as well.

Axel lead the way toward the house with the little boy following close behind. It was only about three kilometers to walk to the house, which was convenient. Because the Boons lived in the woods, wildlife would usually be in the near vicinity of the house, making it much easier to hunt and track down food.

Once they reached the house, they went to the kitchen, along with Boomer, and served themselves some stew that was already cooked and kept warm in a slow cooker. Josephine had prepared lunch earlier that morning and wasn't expected to arrive back home until late afternoon. They hadn't begun to eat when they heard the front door open and two pairs of footsteps enter the house. It was Dirk and Jacob who had come back from their hunt.

They walked into the kitchen to find that lunch was ready.

"So," began Dirk, "What'd we miss?"

"Nothing much. Y'all are just in time, though. We were about to eat without you." said Boomer.

Axel waited for his two oldest sons to serve themselves and sit down before asking, "So how did it go?"

Jacob, the younger of the two oldest, answered, "It was good. Dirk got an elk. We've got it hanging in the shed. It'll be a little while before it's done bleeding, but we've gathered some wood to smoke it when it's done."

Axel finished his mouth-full of stew before continuing to ask about his sons' morning, "What's the condition of the hide?"

This time it was Dirk who responded, "It's in a plastic bag, hanging in the garage."

"Good," the father said, "Because I was planning to teach little Diesel here how to tan hides."

"Speaking of which," Dirk chimed, "How was it with setting snares and all?"

Axel explained, "Well…Diesel is doing better than any of you when you where his age. He's already caught a couple of rabbits and set the large game traps properly, the first time."

"Way to go, D.!" complimented Dirk as he ruffled the hair on his little brother's head. Diesel smiled at the display of brotherly affection and continued eating his food.

"Which reminds me," Axel continued, " Diesel is going to be hunting on a regular basis quite soon. I think, tomorrow, I need to teach him about," he paused strangely, which caught Diesel's attention, "The Birds and the Bees." He finished that sentence with a peculiar sugestivness in his voice.

All was silent for a few seconds before everyone except the baby of the family was chuckling in amusement.

Diesel hadn't the slightest idea of what his father meant by "The Birds and the Bees" but the reaction it prompted slightly unnerved him. His older brothers had pulled pranks on him before, albeit without harm and all in good fun, but still…

It was true. Diesel was becoming a skilled hunter very fast, and it was time for him to understand how the whole population thing worked so that he would know how to properly manage it. He needed to know how to keep the wildlife from over populating and eating all of the food in the area, but also, to not kill too many to make sure there was plenty for the following years. Knowing about the seasons and how they were directly related to the population was important.

"So, Boomer," Jacob changed the subject, "How is the hdrolyzer coming alone?"

"Well...I've got the stainless steel cell finished. Now, all I need to do is assemble the PVC water container and then connect it to the gas hose. After that it'll be good."

Dirk finished Jacob's thought, "Good to hear it."

They continued eating their meal when something in the distance caught Axel's eye. He slowly placed his spoon in his bowl and crept toward the window and squinted as he focused his vision.

Curious as to what was going on, all the kids did the same and gazed through the window.

"What do you see, Dad?" inquired Jacob.

"Jacob, hand me your binoculars," Axel ordered as he extended his hand in his son's direction.

Without hesitation, Jacob complied.

It took Axel a few seconds to adjust the lenses to his liking before he looked through them with his full attention.

The four boys silently waited for their father's report, but what they saw next disturbed them greatly. Axel's face was visibly awstruck and terrified; his eyes were wide open, while his brows were furrowed into a frown, his jaws were clenched and his head lowered with his eyes never changing focus to what he saw outside, and he was breathing very deeply through his nose; something was dreadfully awry.

All of the brothers were afraid to even move, much less ask their father of the situation. Finally, Dirk broke the ice-cold stillness, "What's wrong, Dad?"

Axel turned his head to his family and said in a quiet but most serious voice, "The Covenant is here."

Diesel felt his heart jolt so suddenly when he heard his father, that he clutched a hand to his chest due to the slight discomfort of the spontaneous movement in his sternum.

Diesel's father had told all of his sons about the aliens that glassed planets in an attempt to exterminate humanity. No one in the civilian circle of information knew exactly why the Covenant were so hell-bent on such genocide other than that humanity was supposedly some kind of vermin that needed to be exterminated.

Even at such a young age, Diesel was well informed about the atrocities that the Covenant regularly committed. While it might have been argued that such a young mind was unprepared for such a harsh reality, all of humanity was in an all-out war against the threat of their very own extinction, and Axel understood this fully. He needed all of his family to be the best they could be; to be prepared for the unknown future that they would face at any time.

Even Diesel, at six years of age, had already been taught the basics of lethal hand-to-hand combat as well as becoming quite skilled with a rifle. All of Axel's sons were eager to learn how to properly defend themselves and each other. But Diesel, out of all his brothers, seemed to learn the quickest, and with minimal correction needed. He was a natural learner.

"Their attacking Elysium City," Axel added in a stern tone.

That statement only increased everyone's mortification. That was where their mother had gone earlier that morning with the truck, and she was expected to spend most of the day there. That meant: she was caught in the middle of a homefront invasion.

Thinking quickly, Axel wasted no time in forming a plan in his head and then gave it to his sons, "Dirk, Jacob, we're taking the warthog into the city and we're going to find you mother," he turned his attention to his two youngest children, "Boomer, I need you and Diesel to take my motorcycle and get to Luxor. There is a major space station there. Once you arrive you need to get both yourself and your little brother onto one of the Emergency Planetary Evac ships. Do you understand me?" He finished his instructions while keeping his calm and fatherly tone.

"Yes, Dad!" Boomer acknowledged promptly.

Diesel's eyes were full of disbelief as he began to protest, "But Dad-"

"Diesel," his father interjected, "I need you to do as I say. I'm counting on you. I need you and Boomer to get far way from the attack. The rest of us are going to get you mother and then we'll be back with you when this is all over… I need you to trust me."

Diesel hadn't ever seen his father cry, but this time he could see his wide and pleading eyes beginning to well with water. Diesel was scared, but he trusted his father with his life. He knew that his dad had a better understanding of what to do and that he knew what was best.

Diesel was frightened. A single tear drifted down his left cheek. His father knelt down, placed his fingers around his little boy's neck and stroke the bead of liquid away with his thumb. He then kissed little Diesel on the forehead and then said in a low and soothing voice, "I love you, my son."

Diesel curled his arms around Axel's neck and drew him into a hug, "I love you too, Dad."

Axel knew that time was of the essence and that he needed to go now, but stayed in the hug to give his innocent child some much needed affection and reassurance.

After a few more seconds of a loving embrace, Axel pulled out of the hug and took the dog-tags from around his neck and motioned for Diesel to take them, "Take it." Axel was never part of the UNSC but the local militia issued dog-tags to each of their members. Diesel hesitantly took the necklace and placed it around his own neck.

"Go!" Axel commanded to all of his sons. This prompted everyone to hop-to and hastily proceed to their given instructions.

As the two youngest mounted the bike and headed for Luxor at full-throttle, the rest of the family got into the one other vehicle left; a warthog. While that particular type of vehicle wasn't common for a civilian to own, the Boons _were_ part of a militia and the car in question was old. It was retrofitted for a closed cab with doors but it had no machine-gun mounted in the back.

With Dirk in the driver seat and Jacob in the back, their father sat in the passenger seat as they zoomed down the road toward Elysium City.

An important question came to Jacob's mind so he voiced, "Wait, Dad…how are we going to find Mom?"

As if in anticipation for the question, Axel answered, "You know that your mother always keeps an earbud inside her ear to use as a phone. Some satellites are still operating so I'm going to use the GPS on my phone to locate that earbud. We shouldn't have any trouble locating her."

 _Wow, that's actually a pretty smart plan,_ Jacob thought.

As Elysium City came into view, the chaos of the situation became more clear. It was utter pandemonium. UNSC troops were scattered here-and-there while fighting Covenant forces, which were just as disorganized, while there were also random civilians helping the military shoot back at their extraterrestrial adversaries.

With both Jacob and Axel at the ready with their rifles, Dirk floored the gas as he bolted down the city road, guns blazing.

Axel looked at his phone and shouted in Dirk's direction, "Mom is downtown; near the hospital!"

"Roger that!" Dirk acknowledged as he weaved his way through the chaotic battlefield in an attempt to reach his destination, turning some grunts into roadkill in the process.

While the few satellites that gave Axel his wife's location still seemed to be functional, there were very few that were left undamaged, which made it difficult for Axel to call Josephine due to the low bandwidth. But, Axel needed to try, and make sure that he wasn't going to be rescuing a corpse. He would have called earlier but the cell-service didn't work outside of the city due to the lack of satellites available.

He dialed her ID number and waited. Almost immediately, there was an answer, "Axel, is that you?"

Axel felt his heart almost leap into his throat. She sounded very distressed, which was understandable, but very much alive and well. It seemed she wasn't hurt…yet.

"Yes it's me! What's you status?" Axel responded.

Josephine answered back into the phone, "I'm at the hospital. I've managed to barrackade one of the halls but I'm pinned and running dry on ammo!"

"Are you hurt?"

"Not yet!"

"Hang in there. We're about two klicks out."

After half a minute more of shooting, swerving, and running over grunts they arrived at the hospital's parking lot. Strangely, the parking lot was free of any enemy forces at the moment.

A loud explosion erupted out of a three story window in the hospital, which was immediately followed by gunfire and a pained cry of a voice that was unmistakably that of a split-lip. Josephine was in imminent danger and in need of backup, pronto.

At once, all three men jumped out of the warthog and rushed into the hospital, giving little care to check their corners properly in an attempt to reach Josephine in time.

Gunshots of both human and alien weapons continued to resound through the walls of the building.

Dirk was the pointman of the group when he turned a left corner and came face to face with a Brute that wielded the well renowned grav-hammer. Dirk unleashed the full fury of his weapon into the chest of the beast but its shields were too strong.

Because the surrounding architecture was tight, making it difficult to swing its hammer, the brute swiped its left hand outward, contacting Dirk in his sternum and sending him into the wall that was behind him. The ape-like monstrosity wasted no time in moving forward and raising its foot in an effort to crush the puny human beneath.

Both Axel and Jacob, in the heat of the moment, knew that if they shot at their adversary, its shields wouldn't have diminished in time to save Dirk from being squashed like a bug on the sidewalk. In an instant, both father and son charged forward and simultaneously tackled the overgrown wookie. They then began stabbing the brute with a furied frenzy using their big, thick Bowie knives. Every Boon had one.

In vain, the furry creature tried to grab the humans in its gargantuan hands and throw them off itself to stop the stabbing. It managed to get a hold on Jacob's shoulder, but that was a mistake. Jacob stopped his repetitive thrusting of his knife, in and out of the brute's ribcage, and buried the blade hilt deep into the beast's forearm, causing it to release its grasp on Jacob. Blood poured out of the several dozen wounds in the brute's body like little water fountains. Its efforts to struggle began to subside and its breathing came to a sudden but soft halt.

The deadly duo of knife-wielding humans stopped there berserk rampage and turned their attention to Dirk, who was still on the floor. Axel extended his hand, grasped Dirk by the forearm, and lifted him to his feet.

"You okay?" Axel asked with concern.

"Got the wind knocked out of me, but I'm good," groaned Dirk in reply.

They inspected their kill and found four sticky grenades. Axel took two and the rest took one.

Axel took point this time. They continued at a fast but cautious pace, proceeding their ascent up the stairwell.

But then, proceeded by the blast of a needle rifle, came the pained cry that was unmistakably human. Josephine was hurt.

It was now or never. All caution that may have been in the hastened attempt to rescue Josephine was utterly abandoned. At once, the Boon-trifecta exploded into an all-out gallop, not even taking the care to check for hostiles as they passed by rooms.

When they reached the third floor, they found the bloody carcasses of all types of Covenant ground troops, from grunts to jackals and apes to gators. They followed the grotesque body-litter through the halls, only to find a couple of elites and a grunt firing at what seemed to be a jerryrigged barrackade made form overturned tables, chairs and desks.

The alien enemies were too focused on their current task to even notice the three humans only a few meters behind them.

Elites always had decently strong energy-shields, which made the prospect of shooting them undesirable because it would take too long before they knew what was happening.

Using rapid sign language, instead of words, Axel said, _You two nade the elites. I'll take out the grunt._

Axel unholstered his pistol as his sons readied their grenades. Using his left hand, Axel gave a three-second countdown. On the motion to attack, Dirk and Jacob simultaneously threw the explosives at their selected targets while Axel fired one round, which blew right through the grunt's head. Without missing a beat, the two grenades found their mark and stuck to the Elites' armor. The remaining aliens only had a split second to realize what happened before they vainly panicked for their lives; trying to tear off the pieces of armor that had the grenades stuck to them before it was too late. The explosives exploded and left nothing but dismembered pieces of armor and strewn remaining bits of flesh in addition to painting the surrounding surfaces with a new blue/indigo color.

All was quiet for a couple of seconds before the Boons heard pained groans behind the makeshift barrackade.

Fairly certain that there weren't anymore threats in the immediate vicinity, Jacob was the first to rush forward and jump over the overturned tables and desks to find his mom clutching her side which had a purple needle protruding from her lower abdomen, which, oddly enough, hadn't exploded yet.

"Mom!", Jacob exclaimed in disbelief.

"Move aside!" Axel bellowed, who received immediate compliance from his sons.

Axel knelt down to inspect the damage done to his wife. She had put pressure on the wound using her hands, but she was still bleeding badly. The crystal needle had hit her in the lower right side of her trunk. It had punctured her right kidney.

"Hang in there, Honey. Your going to be alright," Axel said in a calm and reassuring voice.

Josephine nodded.

"Dirk", Axel called, "what do we have to stop the bleeding?"

Dirk replied, "We've got biofoam in the back of the car."

Axel concluded, "Alright, we're going to pull the needle out and bandage her. Then, we'll carry your mother to the warthog and stick some foam in the wound." Dirk and Jacob nodded in acknowledgement.

Jacob took of his shirt and folded it into a bandage, and then unbuckled his belt to use as a tourniquet on his mother's injury.

Axel looked at his wife and asked, "You ready?"

"Yeah."

* * *

 **Author's Note: So that was chapter two. As always, please leave any constructive criticism that you have. If any of you grammar Nazis are reading this, then let me know how my punctuation is holding up. If y'all are waiting for the action to start, just know that it won't really get going until about chapter 5, but fear not; I should be updating regularly for a little while. Again, even if you don't have any correction to offer, please just leave a comment about your thoughts on the chapter or the story in general as that would be very encouraging to me.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Nightmares of the Past (part 2)

Boomer and Diesel continued to ride down the highway at full speed. It had been almost half-an-hour since they left the house and only with a couple of guns as their luggage.

Diesel never talked much but this silence was noticablely different. This silence was very tense, which was usually a symptom that he was mentally unnerved. Boomer caught this but he figured it was best that he leave Diesel alone with it. Nothing he could say would calm Diesel's mind. It was only natural that someone would be mentally unnerved in a time like this one.

Boomer began to slow the bike before he came to a stop. This caught Diesel's attention. Then, all of a sudden, Boomer cranked the throttle and drove off the left side of the road, half crashing into a bush and behind a large rock.

"What is it?" Diesel asked.

Boomer drew his rifle, indicating that Diesel should do the same, "Covie troops."

This was bad; very, very bad.

Diesel asked, "How many?"

Boomer peered around the rock to get a glimpse of the danger, "I count three: two grunts and a hinge-head."

As he continued to observe he noticed that these troops were casually strolling the area. They weren't tense as if ready for battle, and they appeared to be slowly walking without a particular destination. Boomer supposed that these were ground forces tasked with hunting any rural humans in the area.

Diesel's heart rate became very high and he was beginning to shake at that point. Boomer sensed his little brother's fear and gently placed his hand on Diesel's shoulder, "We're gonna be okay," he whispered.

This did little to reduce Diesel's anxiety but he regained his composure and began to control his breathing. He reafirmed his grip on his weapon and nodded, indicating that he was ready.

"Alright," Boomer whispered, "we're gonna sneak past them and make sure they don't even know we were here. We've got to get to Luxor undetected."

Diesel formed a perplexed look on his face, "What are we going to use for transport?"

Boomer seemed to be caught off guard by the question. He hesitantly looked around and found no transport in the area. These Covies must have been dropped off by an aerial vehicle. That ment that it wasn't an option to steal any vehicle. Neither could they use the motorcycle because it would make too much noise. There only seemed to be three enemies at the moment but Boomer wasn't willing to bet his own life or the life of his brother on the assumption that there weren't more Covenant nearby.

Boomer gazed sternly into his little brother's eyes and said, "We're gonna walk."

Diesel looked disbelieving at his brother. Luxor was over thirty-two miles away, even after their highway-cruise that lasted for the past half hour.

Diesel looked as if he was going to protest but Boomer cut him off, "We have no method of transport that's quiet enough to go unoticed. Plus, the Covenant will be watching the roads. We need to go backwoods on this one, bro. Got it?"

Diesel maintained a blank expression on his face for a few moments before he nodded in acknowledgement of Boomer's reasoning.

"Alright," Boomer said, "they're only about three hundred meters away and we have almost nowhere to hide. We need to wait until they've passed us before we keep going. Got it?"

Diesel nodded.

Boomer peeked an eye around the rock to keep track of where the Covies were. It took over ten minutes for the Covenant troops to come close enough for the two brothers to skirt around the rock and remain unseen. There were a couple of close calls where Boomer was almost spotted, but his luck hadn't failed him yet.

"Alright," Boomer whispered, "follow me."

Diesel followed Boomer's lead as they both remained in a crouch. He slowly and quietly moved forward and made sure to not be seen. But, as young inexperience and bad luck would have it, Diesel stepped on a large, dry stick, which made a loud snap.

Boomer, with wide eyes, whipped his head around to where the noise eminated. Both brothers held their breath, praying that nothing else heard the sound.

They had no cover to hide them, other than the boulder, which meant that if the Covies came around the rock, Diesel and Boomer would be caught out in the open.

Diesel heard multiple pairs of footsteps nearing their direction. His heart began to race again. If they were found, their chances of surviving were rather miniscule.

Boomer, however, wasn't so petrified as his little brother. He aimed his rifle and steadied himself, and in the nick-o'-time too. Not two seconds later a pair of grunts came waddling around to side of the rock. They noticed the two humans and where about to make paniced noises of the imminent danger.

However, Boomer was already prepared, and rapidly fired two consecutive shots, both of which were headshots. The grunts never stood a chance.

Unfortunantly, their battle wasn't over. The elite that accompanied the grunts came rushing into view with its energy sword drawn.

Diesel was stupified; unable to move from his squating position. Diesel never saw an alien before, and now that he had, he was utterly terrified. Being that Diesel was closer, the elite charged him with the intent of a swift kill.

Boomer, however, wouldn't let that happen. That split-lip was endangering his family, and Boomer wouldn't have that. Realizing that there was no way to break the alien's shield in time, Boomer dashed a whole five feet before colliding his shoulder into the area just below the elite's right armpit. This threw the oversized iguana off balance, causing it to fall to the ground just in time to miss its human target.

The elite wasted no time in rolling and repositioning himself on top of Boomer. It reafirmed its grip on its sword and thrusted toward the human's abdomen. Boomer used his left hand to push the creature's arm aside just enough to not get stabed. The sword sunk half its length into the ground as Boomer drew his pistol.

This particular pistol was somewhat of an antique from the late twenty-fifth century. It was a five-cylinder revolver based from some older .50 caliber handguns, but had some other features to maximize efficiency and reduce blowback. Boomer called it "The T-Rex".

Boomer wasn't fast enough, though. The elite swiped to gun to the left, which knocked it out of Boomer's hand. The elite then tried to retrieve its sword from the ground but Boomer grabbed the hinge-head by the wrist and began digging his thumb into the elite's eye. The elite released its grip on the sword and raised its upper body upward and retracted its right arm up for a punch. It curled its four-fingered hand into a fist and jabbed it downward; toward Boomer's head.

Being a human, naturally having a predisposition for being able to move more quickly, Boomer shifted his head to the right and avoided the punch. As if planned, Boomer used his head as an anchor against the split-chin's hand. He then swung his left arm and, with all his might, contacted the elite's right elbow, breaking it backwards. The elite suddenly howled in pain but regained its composure just as quickly.

The elite changed tactics. Instead of trying to kill the human with a swift and strategic strike, the elite grappled the vermin's throat with its one funtioning arm, using its imposing body mass to bare down on the opponent's neck.

Proportionally, humans naturally had a superior strength/weight ratio than that of a typical elite, but the lizard-like monster was still too heavy for Boomer to overcome. Boomer was very large for his age, and had the frame to compete with the average adult, but he was still only fourteen, and even a fully grown man would be very hard-pressed to manage an elite's body weight.

Boomer couldn't reach for another gouge to the eye because the elite's arm was too long. He tried to use the same tactic to break the elite's other arm as he did the last, but it was prepared this time, and slightly bent its elbow and seamlessly absorb the impact while keeping its head out of the reach of the human.

Boomer began to feel his limbs becoming cold and his vision becoming spotted. He tried a cheap-shot to the elite's groin area, but he found out the painful way that it was armored.

He could barely feel his his head and realized that he was beginning to loose consciousness by the second. He wouldn't suvive this fight, and he knew it. He began to think frantically of what to do. Without help, he was going to die… _Without help…_ Boomer thought.

"Diesel!" Boomer bellowed as loud as he could, "Diesel!"

Diesel snapped out of his trance. He finally came to wit of the situation, and he knew that he needed to do something fast. Diesel opened fire on the big lizard, letting the volley of metal steadily weaken the energy shields. The shields did break, but not before the gun clicked, indicating that the magazine was empty.

Diesel unhesitantly dropped his rifle and grabbed Boomer's pistol off the ground and shot the elite in the side of the rib cage.

The elite knelt in shock at the sudden pain from the massive hole gaping in its side.

Diesel fired again. This caused the elite to fall to the ground. Diesel fired again. The elite flinched from the shot. He fired again, and again. The pistol clicked against a used primer, indicating that all five rounds had been used.

The elite struggled to breathe for a few seconds as it gurgled in its own blood, and then was still and lifeless.

Diesel stared aimlessly at the body of his victim. Diesel's face was blank and emotionless. He seemed to be in deep thought and mental shock. He felt that something inside him was broken, as if there was an emptiness in his being. This creature that he had slain wasn't human by any means, and he had killed many animals before, but something about this felt different, and Diesel didn't like it.

"Diesel!" came the voice of his big brother.

Diesel came to grip with realiy once more, and realized that Boomer had been shaking his little brother's shoulder to get his attention.

"Diesel, we have to keep moving," Boomer said and he massaged his sore neck.

A silent moment passed before Diesel said with a weak voice, "Yeah…Okay."

Boomer took his pistol from his brother and then retrieved Diesel's rifle for him. They both reloaded their weapons.

"Let's go," Boomer said.

The road that they were traveling was in a valley between two small mountains. They decided to hightail up the leftside mountain and keep themselves as covert as possible, while still making acceptable progress toward Luxor.

Given the recent encounter, Boomer knew that there had to be more alien forces covering the road, and that the closer to the city they approached, the more enemies they would see. That is, if the Covenant had already started their assault on Luxor as they had Elysium City.

Both brothers barely survived the onslaught of one elite. Neither wanted to risk fighting any more of them.

They remained hidden in the timberline and trekked across the mountain slope.

It had been a few hours since the insident with the hinge-head before the sun began to set. After some discussion with his brother, Boomer decided to hunker down for the night.

Boomer had considered that more Covies might be scouting the rural topography for humans. If the two brothers kept moving through the night they might have had less chance of getting spotted. Then again, the enemy troops likely had somekind of night-vision technology with infrared capabilities. If that were true, then Boomer and his brother would be more visible during the night rather than the day. Furthermore, they both needed to be well rested. If the Covenant had already began attacking Luxor, then the Boons needed to be well rested and prepared for tomorrow. Luxor was only about fifteen miles away, so they planned to arrive before noon the next day.

They didn't build a fire for the risk of being seen so they made some beds from some moss and leaves. It was summer so they didn't have to worry about getting cold. They just hunkered down and went to sleep, waiting for morning to come.

* * *

Diesel woke with a sudden jolt. He looked around frantically as he regained his bearings. He was back in the cabin, and laying in his hammock with Boomer doing likewise across the room. Unlike Diesel, though, Boomer was sound asleep.

Diesel had that nightmare…again. Those accursed memories of when he lost most of his family, that day when he killed that elite.

Diesel realized that he was sweating, and his pulse was rapidly beating. He needed some fresh air, and, perhaps, a refreshing dunk in the stream that ran behind the cabin.

With cat-like prowess, he silently slinked toward the door, opened it, and quietly shut the door behind him after he exited the building.

He strolled to the stream and squatted down. He inhaled deeply, taking in the soothing sensation of cool night air reducing the temperature of his sweating body. He cupped his hands into the water and brought the liquid to his face. It felt relieving, and he noticed his pulse beginning to slow to its normal pace.

He heard footsteps behind him. He then realized that he must have awoken Boomer, most likely from his sudden stirring prior to waking up from his bad dream.

Boomer sat down at Diesel's right side, and all was silent for a moment.

"Had that dream again," Diesel said somberly.

Boomer knew what Diesel was talking about. Ever since the incident, Diesel had chronic trouble sleeping every now and then.

Diesel shifted from his squat to a sit, with his left knee supporting his arm in a suspened position, while his other leg lay slack on the ground.

"Was it the one where you killed that alien, or the one where everyone else died?" Boomer refered to Dirk, Jacob, and their parents as 'everyone else'.

"When I killed the alien," Diesel answered tersly.

Diesel took the dog-tags off his neck and observed them in his hand reminiscently. His father had given them to him in assurance that he would return. It took over a week for Boomer and Diesel to board a ship for evacuation due to insecure airspace. Once airspace was secure the ship took off in an attempt to escape. Boomer managed to contact their dad by phone, and it turned out that the rest of the family had boarded onto another ship. Then a Covenant supercarrier appeared out of slipspace and destroyed the evacuation ship. The other vessel managed to escape through slipspace just in time with Kholo as its destination.

Boomer saw what was happening so he tried to divert his brother's attention, "Do you remember when we first got here: we almost starved during our first winter?"

A small smirk cracked the corners of Diesel's mouth, "Yeah."

"Remember, when we were so desperate for food, you successfully managed to jump out of a tree with a knife and killed that bear?" Boomer nodded toward Diesel's pants.

"Yeah…"Diesel chuckled, "Good times, man. Good times."

Boomer lightly laughed with Diesel in humorous retrospect.

"Boomer," Diesel questioned, "Why…why do I… I mean… Ever since I killed that elite, I…" Diesel couldn't seem to find the words.

Boomer helped his sibling form the words, "Killing that elite has made you feel empty and hurt inside."

"Yeah, and I don't understand it. I've killed plenty of _animals_ before, but it doesn't feel the same."

"That's because it was a person, Diesel," Boomer saw the still perplexed face on his brother so he continued, " Now, I know what your thinking: you _did_ kill him to save me. But, the fact remains: that alien was a person."

"If those Covies really are people, then how could they do such things? What did we do to provoke them?" Diesel frowned.

"Remember: Humans have and still do things that are just as bad, and to each other no less. Those aliens are misguided people, Diesel. They just need some _proper_ guidance," Boomer dolefully replied with his kinder-than-Jesus tone.

"The only guidance they'll listen to is straight to the grave," Diesel replied in honest truth.

"Not necessarily true," Boomer countered, "They're driven by an idea, and you can't kill an idea with bullets. You can only kill an idea with another idea."

"Your point?" Diesel asked.

"I know you're wondering how humanity's gonna kill the Covenant when they have superior technology and resources, but killing them isn't the answer. They have bad ideas and beliefs. They need to be shown that what they're doing is wrong."

"And just who do ya' suppose is gonna show them that?"

"Whoever has the better ideas, and people that will stand up and defend those ideas," Boomer concluded as he looked at Diesel.

"And just how would humanity go about doing that?"

Boomer shrugged, "I don't have the answer to that, but I do know that's the only way that it can be done."

Diesel added pessimistically, "We're only two people. Even if the UNSC was convinced to establish friendly communication with the Covenant, I don't imagine _they_ would listen."

Boomer responded, "One person can do a lot…" Boomer thought for a moment to give his brother an example, "You probably don't remember this, but dad told us a story about the Martian war; back when Mars was fighting for independence from Earth. There was a guerrilla fighter that managed to single-handedly place tactical demo-charges into a Terran controlled weapons refinery. He destroyed it all by himself and managed to kill over eighty Earth soldiers that day. He almost escaped, but not quite, he eventually was killed."

Diesel seemed intrigued.

"And who knows," Boomer nudged Diesel with his elbow, "Maybe a hillbilly from the mountains of Kholo will change the universe someday," Boomer finished with a laugh.

Diesel joined his brother with a chuckle.

"Well, bro," Boomer changed the subject, "we'd better get some sleep. We've got work to do tomorrow."

With that, they both went back into the cabin and crawled back into their hammocks, and fell asleep in preparation for their work in the morning.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well, now we have some backstory for the Boon brothers. I suppose that we'll just have to wait for chapter 4 to see what work 'tomorrow morning' will bring. As always, leave your constructive criticism in the form of a Private Message. More reviews are always encouraging to me.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Memories to Never Forget

Diesel woke to the sun shining through the window and onto his face. He stretched his legs before swinging them over the side of his hammock and stood with a stiff, morning body. He deeply inhaled before standing tall and stretching his arms toward the ceiling to alleviate the tense state of his muscles. As he did so he noticed Boomer was awake and was starting to get out of his own hammock.

Mornings, weekday or weekend, always began with an hour of power yoga for both Boomer and Diesel. This not only eased mental stress, but drastically increased strength as well as flexibility and ballance. As big as Boomer was, he was suprisingly flexible, courtesy of his daily, hour-long yoga routine. Diesel was naturally lithe and limber as it was, but the amount of yoga he faithfully exercised turned his body into that of a cat; able to twist and contort into unusual postures and positions. His exercises had also increased his balance, both on his hands and his feet. Diesel could do a handstand, touch his chest to the floor, and push back up into his vertical handstand, all without the aid of a wall to balance himself. He could do pushups like that in sets of ten, and that number was gradually increasing.

With the first hour of the morning complete, Boomer began to unpack yesterday's luggage from their bundles and sacks. It had been over two years since they had purchased goods from any human infrastructure, and Diesel was ready for some clothes that were something other than tough leather.

Boomer began unpacking and, without looking, tossed something behind his back. Diesel caught it out of its mid-air flight. It was a particular pair of pants. He didn't know if this clothing had numerical specifications and names, but it was a pair of military surplus pants. Of course, the only options were in different types of camoflauge and, wisely so, Boomer picked up woodland camo. It was tough but comfortable and didn't inhibit his range of motion and didn't usually get sticky after sweating as some thicker denim fabrics did. Diesel always prefered baggier clothes than normal.

With Boomer handing his brother a pair of underwear and a large T-shirt, Diesel redressed himself and applied the new garments. Last ,but not least, came the boots, OD green combat boots. After handing out the new clothes, Boomer redressed also.

With that order of buisness done, it was time to go to work. It was mostly housework for the day: butchering the smoked elk meat into sizable portions, cleaning guns, continuing the tanning process for the elk skin, and collecting wood for winter. They had their work cut out for them.

Boomer started with the meat while Diesel continued working on the hide.

Their work continued for several hours in silence, but it wasn't at all awkward. Boomer had been thinking about what they were going to do for the rest of the day if they finished early. If they were done early enough they might have the option to race to the waterfall about two miles away. On the other hand they might not have any spare time at the end of the day. Available time would limit the options so Boomer wanted his brother's input.

"Diesel!", Boomer called.

At this, Diesel paused his work and looked at Boomer.

Boomer continued, "If we have the time, what do you suppose we should do this afternoon?"

Diesel responded promptly, which told Boomer that Diesel had been thinking about it, "I'm thinking it'd be nice to race to the waterfall. But if there isn't time we could always hone our hand-to-hand combat skills in a spar."

 _He thinks a lot like I do_ , Boomer thought to himself with a jovial smile.

"Or maybe," Diesel continued, "I could just put in extra time to practice my swordplay."

Boomer chuckled slightly as he shook his head, "I never quite understood why you like your sword so much. In all honesty it has very little practical uses other than exercising your hand-eye corordination."

"I find it thereputic," Diesel responded as he continued his work, "I think you would too. The biggest problem I have, though, is that I don't have anyone to practice that particular skill with."

"I suppose," Boomer admitted, " But I must say you're still quite good with it."

They continued their tasks in relative silence for the rest of the day. Later that evening they were finished with the chores that they had set to do that morning. Boomer had already stocked some firewood and Diesel had finished his own work, and they had about half an hour left in the day.

They decided to spar.

"Here," Boomer said as he tossed a long strand of fabric to his brother.

Diesel caught the cloth and tied it around his eyes as a blindfold after removing his shirt and his father's dogtags.

"Whenever you're ready," Boomer said after he removed his own upper garment.

Diesel deeply inhaled through his nose as he focused all of his senses. The slight breeze lightly gracing his shirtless body; the smell of the short grass in the medow where they stood; the sound of Boomer's ever-so faint breathing; it all came to Diesel as he began to see the world surrounding him without his eyes to aid him.

With one slow and relaxed exhale Diesel was ready, "Begin."

* * *

Diesel was breathing very heavily from the fight. The left side of his ribcage ached, his right shoulder was sore, and his heart felt like it was about to pound itself out of his chest as he lay supinely in the grass. The spar was reaching its ten minute mark and Diesel was wiped out.

"I'm done," Diesel panted as he untied his blindfold.

"You get noticably better every time we do this," Boomer replied.

"Yeah, but you still owned me…again," Diesel smiled.

"You _were_ wearing a blindfold."

"You'd sill own me."

"True. But that's mostly because I'm your big brother. Plus I'm almost three times your , given how fast your learning I think the time will come when you'll be the one teaching _me_ how to fight."

"You think so?"

"You're a man of many talents, Diesel. You're an exceptionally fast learner and you can do almost anything you put your mind to. You've already surpassed me when it comes to shooting things. You have an eagle's eye and a steady hand, and you can speak over three languages. Your an exceptional young man. Always keep that in mind."

"Yeah. I just wish that the rest of the family was still here to see us and how we turned out," Diesel said with nostalgia.

"Well, one thing's for sure: Dad taught you well."

Diesel shook his head as he corrected, " Dad taught _you_ well. And, in turn, you taught me well."

"Which reminds me: stay here for a sec," Boomer chimed as he jogged off toward to cabin.

It wasn't five seconds later that he emerged from the cabin door with a tripod and his camera. That particular camera wasn't just any camera. It was one of the highest end, very expensive, hand-held cameras one could come by.

Boomer promply set and leveled the tripod before mounting the camera on the top. He then set a ten second timer and then stood beside Diesel.

"Smile," Boomer said playfully as the timer was halfway through the countdown. A sly grin etched itself into Boomer's features. At the very last second, Boomer quickly wrapped his right arm around his brother's neck and curled his left hand into a fist before giving Diesel a noogy. Diesel's cat-like reflexes kicked in and he began futile attempts of pulling away as he franticly flailed his hands in the direction of Boomer's face. Boomer instinctively pulled his head away but continued his barage of knuckles upon the top of his little brother's head.

The camera flashed, indicating that the picture was shot. Boomer released his prisoner before making his way to the camera as it spat out a thick piece of paper. Boomer pulled the picture out of the slot and observed it with a smile on his face.

The picture showed Boomer with his head craned to the side to avoid his brother's hand while at the same time Diesel was pulling the other way while his face held an expression of surprise, amusement, and fun as his scalp was rubbed back and forth.

"That's a keeper," Boomer said as he turned to Diesel.

Diesel rubbed his head with a joyful, toothy smile as he observed the picture.

Boomer dissasembled his "memory keeping equipment" and they both headed into the house. Diesel sat down at the only table in the cabin while Boomer rummaged through his stuff before aquiring what he needed. He headed to the table and began working. He opened a pocket sized booklet and began flipping throught the pages before stopping at a blank one. He rubbed some glue onto the page before carefully positioning the recently produced photograph squarely into the booklet. The picture nearly filled the entirety of the page with only a small margine left at the bottom.

With the picture fitted properly onto the page, Boomer grabbed his pen and began writing slowly. He then handed the finished project to his brother across the table.

Boomer's picture booklet contained pictures from since their parents wedding, and now to the present. Chronologically, it maintained memories of each of the brother's first successful hunts, family reunions, birthdays, to other memorable family photos. Boomer had been collecting such moments and placing them into that booklet ever since he was nine. When the Covenant attacked Eridanus II that booklet happened to be one of the things that escaped with Boomer.

Diesel found the caption on the bottom of the most recent page which was written in very neat print "Bros after Blows". Diesel smiled and handed it back to Boomer who in turn put the booklet, pen, and glue back were they belonged.

Diesel commented in refference to Boomer's perpencity to add to his picture booklet of the family, "I still don't understand why you do that."

"I find it thereputic. Besides, it helps me look back on fond memories and ensures that I won't ever forget them. It's the same reason you keep those dogtags around your neck."

"What good does that do?"

"Well,Diesel, you might not realize it but it is a collection of special moments and lessons that shouldn't ever be forgotten. Besides, if one or both of us ever have kids it'll be a good piece of family history."

Diesel internally rolled his eyes as he smiled and thought to himself, _Whatever, Bro_ , before he spoke, "Its not like having kids is a likely or desireable prospect."

"You say that now. But you just wait and see."

"I'll do that," Diesel concluded skeptically of his brother's words.

The day was beginning to fade and so the two brothers prepared for the day to come as they settled down into their hammocks and rested for the night. They had their plans for tomorrow. But, who really knew what tomorrow would bring? Afterall, the future was never certain.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Home-front

Diesel stirred from his slumber. He slowly woke up before his groggy mind could identify what noise had awoken him. Then he recognized it; it was the sound of horses whinnying. Diesel peered over to his sleeping brother who seemed unperturbed by the noise. Diesel slowly sauntered his way out of the cabin and looked for the source of the commotion. It only took a second or two to find the horses in the pasture next to the house. For some reason they were uneasy and Diesel was unsure why. They were pacing back and forth along the fence line impatiently as if anticipating pending danger.

Diesel walked his way to his horse before gently placing his hands on her snout and muttered, "Take it easy Korona. What's got you all in a fuss?"

Korona pulled her head up and away in an attempt to free her head from the human's grasp but Diesel only tightened his grip to subdue her upset spirit. After a few seconds she calmed down, as did Tucker.

For a moment all was silent while Diesel listened for any noise. Then he heard it. He heard a low rumble off in the far distance, past several mountain ridges. He felt the ever-so-slight tremors that accompanied the noise. Diesel's eyes widened. He didn't know what it was for sure but he had very strong premonitions.

Diesel vaulted over the fence and scampered back to the cabin and practically threw Boomer out of his hammock.

Boomer grunted in confusion and grogginess as he focused his attention on Diesel.

"Boomer," Diesel said in a noticeably elevated and anxious voice, "come here!"

"What are you doing. Why did you-"

"It's urgent," Diesel interrupted.

Boomer steadied himself onto his feet before following after his little brother in a matched sense of urgency.

The horses were once again pacing back and forth along the fence.

"Listen," Diesel instructed.

Boomer focused his hearing over the sound of the horses' ruckus. Within moments he heard and felt it too.

Boomer's countenance stiffened and became alive and serious as if the early morning sleepiness suddenly dissipated, "Saddle up the horses. I'll pack up our stuff."

Diesel acknowledged with a nod. It seemed that Boomer's suspictions matched that of his little brother: The Covenant was invading.

Within the next three minutes Diesel had the horses ready and Boomer had packed all of their own essentials consisting mostly of rifles with ammo to match, extra food and clothes, water, and the like.

"We have everything?" Diesel asked.

"Yep," Boomer responded.

Diesel began checking a mental list just to make sure, "Water?"

"Yep," Boomer confirmed.

"Fire?"

"Yep."

"Rifles?"

"Yep."

"Long rifle?"

"Yep?"

"First Aid?"

"Yep."

"Clothes?"

"Yep."

"My sword?"

"…Nope."

Diesel blitzed back to the house and disappeared inside. He new exactly where it was and found it quickly.

It was a sword of a somewhat unique build. It was a thirty-one inch wakazashi with a twenty-two inch blade. The blade was manufactured with some of the best modern alloys and manufacturing techniques with a tough, razor-sharp edge and an opposing false edge along with large blood grooves for maximum weight reduction. Forgoing the traditional style, the sword boasted a thin, high-quality, nine inch kraton handle with a hexagonal grid to provide maximum grip. The blade was lacquered OD green with a matching color on the handle and polyethylene saya. The hilt had no souba but a single, three-quarters of an inch, forward facing finger guard that slightly curved downward to prevent the user's fingers from sliding into the blade. This was, perhaps, Diesel's most favored possession.

He snatched it and scurried back to the horses. He attached it securely to his saddle and they were off. They planned to trek toward the nearest city and confirm or deny their suspicions.

* * *

It had taken until dawn to come within sight of the city. As it turned out the Covenant was, indeed, invading. The noise of cannon fire, both human and alien, could be heard from miles away. The Covenant ships that illuminated the morning sky had full control of the air space, denying any planetary evacuation. Human civilians were being hurried into safety bunkers to shield them from the ongoing onslaught.

On top of a nearby mountain that overlooked the majority of the city, Diesel watched all these things transpire through the scope on his long rifle.

"They've locked down the air space," Diesel informed Boomer. Diesel continued, "It looks like civilians are taking refuge in the bomb shelters."

Boomer acknowledged with a nod.

"So what's the plan?" Diesel asked as he continued to observe the battle below through his scope.

Boomer pondered for a moment, "Chances are that they're going to start glassing relatively soon. They're going to start with the cities and then move on to the rest of the planet…unless they only partially glass us. We're going to wait until they glass the city. It's then that we'll hide in what's left of the city until the invasion's done. The Covenant, more likely than not, won't think to look there for any stragglers in a glassed city."

And with that they waited. It was three days before the glassing started. In the meantime the two brothers munched on dried food to keep themselves fed, spent most of each day pacing around a tree, and repositioning their horses' tie-down areas to keep _them_ fed as well.

After the glassing of the city was finished, Diesel and Boomer had constantly been on high alert. Now that the city was glassed, it was likely that the Covenant troops would start to spread out and eliminate any rural remnants of human life.

The city was in shambles but still recognizable. It almost looked like something out of an apocalyptic movie. Large billows of smoke emanated from the glassed sections of the city and there was still a faint remnant of gunfire, indicating that the Covenant was still fighting what was left of a resistance.

"I think it's about time we hide in what's left of the city," Boomer chimed.

"Why not go now, then?" Diesel asked.

"The only problem is that we'll be walking out in the open to get there. We'll be completely exposed, and I have a hunch that there are scouts still scanning the area," Boomer said.

"So what's the plan?" Diesel asked.

"Well…"Boomer began, "If we-"

Boomer fell silent. The brothers looked at each other and then at the sky behind them. A Covenant ship was cruising through the sky. Its purple hull loomed like a dark, ominous mist that engulfed anything in its path. The deep rumbling of its engines emanated an understanding of imminent demise. Its faceless, robotic persona gave no mercy, no remorse. It was there to do one job and one job only.

Time seemed to slow down as Boomer and Diesel realized the full extent of their predicament. The ship was preparing to do some more glassing. To make matters worse, there was a whole lineup of other ships doing the same to the right and the left. A perpendicular evasion was not an option.

With only one obvious choice left, they both knew what to do. Without saying a single word to each other, they mounted their horses and sped down the mountain side. It was now a simple race for time.

The immense plasma cannons of the fleet began to charge. The infamous sound of impending doom by glassing began to ring throughout the sky.

"How are we going to avoid _that_?!" Diesel exclaimed.

Boomer aptly hollered back, "The city has underground levels that should shelter us from the glassing!"

Within a few seconds of each other, the ships unleashed their destructive weapons and began bombarding the planet surface as they neared the city.

The horses continued their race against time as they kept running in an all-or-nothing sprint. The edge of the city was only a quarter mile away now. Fortunately Boomer knew exactly where they needed to go. The two brothers began taking lefts and rights through the streets as they neared their destination.

Boomer stopped his horse and dismounted in front of a building. "Follow me!" He shouted, which indicated Diesel to do likewise. He followed his brother through the building, up hallways and down corridors, until Boomer stopped in front of a door. He opened it and lead his horse inside with him.

"Come on!" Boomer exclaimed.

Within a second the two humans and their equine companions were fit into a small cubicle with only one door. Boomer hastily pressed a button and the door closed. The elevator began to descend. Everyone was breathing hard, particularly the horses. Both of which waited until they were in the elevator before expressing their stress by defecating.

Diesel began stroking the forehead of his animal, "That's a good girl."

Diesel turned his head toward his brother, "About how much time do you think we had left?"

They both gazed upward when they heard a deep, earthshaking rumble.

"About twenty seconds," Boomer chuckled.

The elevator stopped and the door opened. They both exited and assessed their situation.

"We're in sublevel fifteen," Boomer observed.

"What's the plan?" Diesel asked.

"We'll just hang tight and avoid conflict wherever possible," Boomer stated, "We're deep enough to stay safe from the glassing. All we need to do now is to not get noticed. It seems now that the Covenant's going to glass the whole city. They'll be sending troops down here, so we'll just have to watch our backs."

With that they spent a few minutes wandering the facility, looking for a suitable hiding place. Chances were that the Covenant was soon to send troops down there if they hadn't already.

They decided on a little space beside some storage crates. It may have been small but it was enough to provide cover from both sides and give both humans and horses a place to stay out of sight.

The two brothers began by getting the horses to lay down next to each other.

Boomer instructed, "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

Diesel simply nodded and lay his head against the belly of his animal companion.

Just within a few minutes Diesel was fast asleep.

* * *

Diesel woke up to a couple firm nudges on his shoulder.

Diesel realized it was Boomer and opened his eyes. Boomer was making signs with his left hand, _Enemies close._

Diesel got the message and almost grabbed his long rifle. With a few seconds of thought he decided to forego the longer weapon and took his carbine instead, thinking that it would be better suited for the close quarters that they were in.

Diesel readied himself and peered over the crate. There were Covenant troops waking down the corridor in the brothers' direction. There were four short and stubby ones that were constantly making noise of one sort or another.

 _Grunts_ , Diesel recalled after a few moments of thinking.

There was another that looked like an overgrown, featherless, mutant chicken.

The third was the biggest of them all. Diesel couldn't remember what it was called, but it looked like a giant, armored yeti with a bladed cannon in its hands. If Diesel had to guess, he figured that it was the boss of the little group.

"Plan?" Diesel whispered.

"We'll see if they don't just pass us by. If not then we kill them," Boomer responded.

Tucker let out a low, throaty rumble of unease.

Diesel twisted around and gently covered the stallion's nose to disallow him to make any noise.

The horses were becoming more and more unsettled by the second.

Korona and Tucker may have just saved the two brothers from getting glassed, but now they might have just been the instrument of their demise.

It seemed that the small commotion didn't go unnoticed. The aliens were walking closer to the storage crate with weapons at the ready.

Diesel and Boomer held their breath. It seemed that a fight was unavoidable, and it would be foolish to not use the element of surprise while it was still available.

With not much of a choice, Boomer made a hard decision: he let the horses get up and let them try to run away.

This caught the aliens by surprise before they began frantically firing at these things that just jumped out from behind some human storage crates.

"Open fire," Boomer commanded in an elevated voice.

The fire from the two humans caught the aliens off guard as it took them a few seconds to realize that they were being fired upon. By that time the grunts were all dead but the big one had shields that were strong enough to allow it to get behind cover without harm.

Boomer didn't have time to think before he saw a spiky stick with blinking yellow lights imbed itself into the side of a crate.

"Grenade!" Boomer shouted as they both scampered to a different set of crates for cover without a moment to lose. The grenade exploded, sending shrapnel from the crates and its contents all over the place.

"You can't hide from me, vermin!" came a shout.

Diesel and Boomer looked at each other. "It speaks English," Diesel observed with slight surprise.

It took Diesel half a second to realize it when it happened, but the big beast charged the humans' cover and through it out of the way in an attempt to get at its targets.

Time seemed to slow for Diesel. The massive ape had its gnarly blade raised in preparation to cleave the little human in two. There was nothing he could do. He knew about energy shields and roughly knew how they worked. There was no way he could kill the alien before it killed him. From his crouched position, Diesel dived to the side, causing the brute to miss its mark.

In the same instant Boomer tackled the beast. It just tried to kill his little brother, and it was going to pay for it. Two massive bodies collided on the ground with Boomer on top. He began to send a barrage of open-handed strikes into the face of his enemy. Blow after blow, Diesel could feel the concussion of the massive force of the giant man's attack imparted into the face of the overgrown gorilla.

The brute managed to throw his adversary off of himself just long enough to collect his bearing. The brute was ready for his own up close and personal assault.

Boomer saw it coming and noticed a fist-sized rock in front of his face, and grabbed it in his right hand. In one motion he spun around counter-clockwise onto his feet and guesstimated where the brute's face would be. The rock in Boomer's fist collided with the alien's face with a bone-grinding crunch. The beast seemed temporarily disoriented, and Boomer took full advantage of it.

Boomer began by making another strike to the brute's face in the opposite direction. He dropped the rock and positioned himself behind the half-kneeling giant and placed his right hand on the beast's upper mouth and his left hand on the lower. He clamped his fingers like a steel vice while his massive shoulders tightened as his thick arms began pulling like hydraulic pistons. Boomer began to overextend the maw of the brute's snout. Brutal second by brutal second, Boomer could feel the beast's strength waning.

The brute let out a painful cry as the joint's in its jaw structure began to pop. And then it happened so suddenly. Boomer tore the brute's lower jaw entirely from its face, and he let out a roar of rage. Just as violently, he smashed the jawbone into the brute's face and finished the job by stomping his gargantuan boot down onto the alien's head, crushing the skull.

"That's for my horse," he seethed.

"You good, bro?" chimed Diesel.

"Yeah, I'm good," Boomer replied with moderately heavy breathing.

Diesel approached the carcass of the recently deceased alien.

"Wait a sec. Wasn't there-" Diesel stopped as something in the distance of the hallway caught his eye. His eyes widened as he realized their mistake.

With all of his might, Diesel tackled Boomer by the waist in an attempt to get both of them behind cover in time, but he wasn't quite fast enough. Diesel felt a burning pain in the left side of his lower abdomen. The sudden hurt left Diesel collapsed supinely on the ground with nothing to do put let out a quiet grunt.

Boomer then understood what happened: they forgot about the birdlike alien that accompanied the ones that the two brothers just killed.

Boomer's eyes narrowed in anger. His adrenaline began to flow again. He gripped his rifle off the ground and leaned out of his cover. He took careful but hurried aim and then fired.

The alien ducked behind cover to avoid the shots.

For about ten seconds, they both passed fire back and forth with not much success for either of them.

 _It's only about thirty meters_ , Boomer thought, _If I can get close then I'll be able to take him down for certain._

Boomer didn't know exactly what his opponent's weapon sounded like when realoading, but he figured that it be obvious enough when it happened.

Boomer heard the presumed noise that he was anticipating and thought that it was now worth the risk. He came out from his cover and blitzed the enemy position.

Once he got there it was a done deal. The jackal looked up with horror at the massive human standing before him. His imposing stature towered over the Covenant trooper like a voracious bear over a rabbit. In a panicked state, the jackal tried to point the barrel of his plasma rifle into the chest of the human, but in vain.

Boomer gripped the barrel of the gun with his right hand and kicked the mutant bird in the thorax, sending the creature flying into the wall behind it.

Boomer then raised the gun into the air before swinging it down with full force into the head of his adversairy, killing it instantly.

Once Boomer realized that it was dead, he then remembered his little brother.

Boomer rushed over to his previous hiding place and spotted his brother. He knelt down to examine the damage.

Upon inspection Boomer learned that it was a plasma burn that didn't go entirely through. It wasn't lethal: it seemed that it was only a muscle-deep flesh wound that didn't reach any of Diesel's organs.

"You good?" Boomer asked with a slight smile on his face.

In response, Diesel only gave a quiet, and aggravated growl.

Boomer trotted over to his dead horse and rumaged around for his first aid. He found it and went back to his brother. This type of wound was an easy fix. It was already cauterized but it still hurt and was suceptible to infection. Boomer retrieved a small can of biofoam and squirted its contents into the open wound.

Diesel quickly inhaled at the sudden sting before it rapidly dissapated.

With that Boomer grabbed his little brother's hand and helped him to his feet.

"Can you walk?" Boomer inquired.

Diesel took a few steps forward before stopping and bending over a little. It appeared that walking pulled and stretched the wound.

"Is that a 'no'?" Boomer asked.

Diesel simply nodded his head in confirmation.

Boomer turned his head behind him at hearing a faint sound. More Covies were coming down the winding halls in the two brothers' very direction. It was no doubt that the comotion of the recent firefight attracted some undesired attention.

"Gotta be kidding me," Boomer murmured under his breath.

Boomer turned his head back to Diesel, "I'm gonna have to carry you."

And just like that, Boomer gently threw his little brother onto his left shoulder like a sack of potatos, with Diesel's head dangling behind Boomer's back.

Diesel grunted at the slight discomfort that it caused to his wound.

Boomer picked up his rifle and began walking deeper into the underground complex, "We have to keep moving."

* * *

Boomer looked at his watch. According to the timepiece, he had been on the move for over an hour. During that time Boomer could hear distant gunfire, indicating that there were still people fighting the pursuing Covenant troops.

 _We can't keep this up_ , Boomer thought to himself. It seemed that no matter how deep into the ground he decended, the enemy was still close behind him. It was as if the Covenant was after the Boons specifically. It was bad enough that there were always soldiers advancing in their direction. If they realized that the two brothers were there, the two humans had no chance of coming out of this situation, at least not alive.

"Diesel," Boomer began, "How y' doing?"

"Been better," Diesel responded quietly.

"You'll be alright. You're gonna make it out of here just fine. We both will," Boomer assured.

Diesel could feel slight pain in his wound with every step that Boomer made. It wasn't quite as bad as walking himself, but it still sucked.

What happened next Diesel didn't know. Somehow he hit the ground which knocked the breath out of him and caused him to see stars. Diesel blinked a few times in an attempt to collect his bearing.

 _What just happened?_ Diesel thought to himself.

Diesel suddenly realized his situation and so he didn't move a muscle. Boomer had fallen face first onto the ground. Diesel was likewise prone, but was on top of Boomer's back. Out of the corner of his eye, Diesel also saw a glowing blue crystal protruding out of the back of Boomer's thorax. Within a second or two it exploded. Inconviniently, it was positioned directly next to Diesel's own wound, which caused great pain upon the crystal's explosion.

Diesel had to muster the full extent of his self-control to not grunt or flinch in pain.

Diesel heard footsteps behind him. They seemed slow, cautious, deliberate. Diesel's heartbeat began to pound faster and harder. Footstep by footstep, they came closer and closer.

Diesel's right hand was already positioned near the big revolver on Boomer's right hip when they fell. All Diesel needed to do was slowly inch his hand onto it one centimeter at a time.

The soft footsteps were getting louder now. Diesel estimated that it was about fifteen meters away. With his hand gripped onto the pistol's handle, he ever so slowly and carefully drew the hammer back into the firing position.

Ten meters left. Diesel's heart felt like it was about to pound out of his chest. He could feel each individual bead of sweat tickle its way down his face. His face was half covered by his black hair and his increased pulse rate made his injury hurt worse.

Five meters left. He could feel the gentle vibrations of the metal floor with each soft step that the creature made.

Three meters left. Diesel held his breath. The anticipation was unbearable.

One meter left. The sound of footsteps ceased. Diesel was sure that he heard breathing that wasn't his own.

 _Any moment now_ , Diesel thought frantically.

Everything seemed to be silent and still to Diesel. Everything felt like it was left in an indefinate limbo.

Diesel felt a hand grasp his right shoulder, which almost made him jump. The hand pulled, rolling Diesel over. The motion made by the alien allowed Diesel to pull Boomer's pistol out of the holster without any conspicuous movement. In the same motion and with the same speed, Diesel brought the muzzle of the gun directly underneath the alien's chin and immediately pulled the trigger.

If the alien _did_ realize what was about to happen, it didn't even have the time to show it in its eyes. The body of the kneeling alien went entirely limp as its brains and indigo blood were forcefully shot out of the top of its helmet with a deafening bang. The body keeled forward and flopped itself on top of Diesel's supine body, which caused him to grunt.

He tensely exhaled as he struggled to force the dead body off himself. It hit the floor with a thud of the body and a clank of the armor. It was the same type of alien that he killed back on Eridanus II, but this one had silver and curvy armor.

 _Elite,_ Diesel remebered.

Diesel's wound continued to throb, and it became more strained when he turned around onto his knees and flopped Boomer onto his back. Diesel's eyes widened when he assessed the full extent of the damage. There was a big, gaping through-and-through wound where Boomer's heart was supposed to be, and it was bleeding profusely. His breathing was weak and his eyes were unfocused.

Diesel began to frantically search for Boomer's first aid kit somewhere among his possessions of his satchel. He pulled the cap off the biofoam can and, with uncontrolably shaky hands, sprayed it into the wound. Even so, this failed to stop the bleeding, and the can was completely drained of foam.

Diesel was now in a state of unrestrained panic. His breathing was sporadic, and shallow. He continued to rummage for something else; something that would assist in keeping the blood inside Boomer's body. Diesel found some torniquet cloth and pressed the newly aquired fabric onto his brother's chest.

And then Boomer-oh so unshakable Boomer-steadily lifted his hands and grasped Diesel by the wrists. Diesel's darting eyes halted their rapid wandering, and fixed themselves onto Boomer's calm, blue orbs.

Without saying a word, Boomer reached into his pocket and pulled something out of it, and then slowly placed it into Diesel's unsteady hands. It was the book of pictures that Boomer made. It was the book that contained the only remaining memories of their family. It was the book that Boomer considered to be his most valuable possession above everything else that he had.

Diesel brought his eyes from the booklet back to the eyes of his brother. His orbs were not at all lidded, but they were tired and soft as he lay on the ground. Boomer's grip on Diesel's hands tightened as the big brother addressed the littler, "Diesel," Boomer spoke calmly. His tone was low, slow and still firm, and he spoke almost every word with a breath of its own, "Don't. Become. The enemy."

And just like that, the unshakable vicelike grip of Boomer eased, and became totally limp. The slow and still strong rising and falling of his chest ceased. His eyes became half-lidded and his face slackened; his features were completely devoid of expression.

And just like that, Boomer: the one who cared for and raised Diesel ever since they lost their parents; the one who pratically became Diesel's dad ever since he was six. Boomer: the only family and friend Diesel had left was gone.

Boomer Andronicus Boon was dead.

Diesel could hardly move. His quivering hands grasped the booklet as his eyes began to well with tears. He knew what just happened, but he had yet to come to grips with the reality. He just lost everything.

He didn't know for how much time he was kneeling there, but it felt like eternity. He was totally in shock.

He couldn't take it anymore.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" Diesel bellowed out a blood-curdling cry of rage that echoed loudly down the seemingly never ending maze of the underground complex.

The Covenant had taken everything from him. They had already robbed him of his parents and his two oldest brothers along with his homeworld. And now, they stole everything else.

Diesel clencheded his teeth as his face contorted into a seething mask of hate and vengeance. The wound in his abdomen stopped hurting, and his hazel eyes narrowed into soul-piercing lazers. He glanced down at Boomer's rifle before picking it up in his hand. He easily arose from his kneeling position and slid the booklet into the right pocket of his pants. He wasn't going to live to see another day, that much was certain, but those Covenant troops weren't going to either.

Diesel began walking forward. He readied the carbine in his hands. The troops that were constantly on Boomer's tail were drawing nearer.

He could see their shadows as they came close to turning the corner. He was going to be the one to take the first shot. He aimed down the rifle's sights and readied his trigger finger.

Within moments several troops rounded the corner at once, giving Diesel the opportunity to take down several enemies before they reacted appropriately.

Diesel squeezed the trigger and let the gun do the rest. The fully automatic barage of metal caught the alien cluster entirely by surprise. As per usual, the grunts were the first to die.

What happened next took Diesel by utter surprise. He didn't receive any returned fire, but instead was being charged by several of the same kind of aliens that just killed Boomer, and they had energy swords at the ready. Diesel opened fire on the one that was closest to him.

He saw the shields fail, but just not quite fast enough. Before he could let out anymore shots, the large digitigrade raised its foot and kicked Diesel square in the sternum. Its two massive toes hit Diesel with such force that it caused him to somersault backwards, landing ungracefully on his belly, and temporarily took his wind away.

He noticed that Boomer's magnum revoler was, again, in reach for him to use, right next to the body of his brother and the dead alien. He grabbed it in his right hand and began to stand onto his feet.

He glanced up just in time, and shot at the creature that just kicked him. Appearently, the alien's shields hadn't recharged yet, as the shot blasted through the alien's stomach without any trouble. This caused the monster to fall forward as it was running, and slid to a halt on its belly.

Diesel felt a terrible pain in his left thigh. He didn't even fall onto his hands and knees before he knew that is was a crystal porjectile that was sticking out of his leg.

He immediately felt a hand grasp him by the throat that swifly raised him in the air. Another one of those aliens was ready to run him through with an energy sword.

Diesel's spirit caught fire, he looked into the eyes of the enemy and knew that he couldn't let them win. He might loose, but they couldn't win.

Diesel roared in fury and determination as he gripped the glowing purple protrution in his thigh, and in a single movement swiftly pulled it out of his leg and thrust it up into the mandibals of his adversary.

The alien's eyes widened in shock before it toppled over backwards, and the crystal exploded.

Diesel landed on his hands and knees again. He put a foot in front of him in an attempt to get back on his feet. Midway through his motion, he was once again kicked from the front, but this time it was in the right shoulder. This put Diesel laying on his back. He tried to get up again, but he couldn't. Between the multiple wounds he recently received and the fight itself, he just didn't have anything left in him, try as he might.

The alien that kicked him grabbed the front of Diesel's OD green T-shirt and brought him up to waist level. The tall creature drew back his sword and readied to run the young human right through.

 _This' how it ends?_ Diesel thought.

The alien never stabbed the human that was in its hand.

Diesel's hearing was faint and everything sounded like it was underwater, but he heard a series of harsh growls and garbelled consonants. The alien that had Diesel in its grasp turned its head to the left. Diesel turned his head toward the same direction. There was another of the same alien race, rapidly pointing back and forth between Diesel and what Diesel presumed to be its inferior.

The seemingly lesser of the ranks turned its head back to the human and waited a second before raising its foot again. Diesel saw it coming, but there was nothing that he could do about it.

Diesel was hit in the face and almost immediately everything became dark, silent, and still. Diesel felt the empty darkness engulf him.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well... now the action's finally kicked in. Just a heads-up: The next chapter might not come out for a while, then again it might. As of now it is unsure, but it _will_ come.**

 **Anyway, leave a "like", comment, and follow as always. I'm always thankful for your input.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: As you might have noticed, it has been a while since I last updated. You may remember that in a previous chapter I said that I'd be updating regularly for a "little while". That "little while" has now come to an end. Updates form here on will not be happening on a regular basis, but fear not: I will continue to work on this story until it's finished.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

 **A Twenty Square Foot Cage: Survival of the Fittest**

Diesel stirred. It took a moment before he could feel himself breathing.

 _Am I dead?_ he thought.

He then felt himself lying face first on a cold metallic floor, as well as his wounds that began to throb in his left leg and lower left abdomen.

 _Not yet,_ he concluded.

He struggled to open his eyes as his lids felt heavy and his energy was all but depleted. All was blurry at first, but his eyes focused, and Diesel noticed his left hand that was directly in front of his face.

Diesel inhaled deeply as he positioned his hands directly beneath him before heaving with an exhale as he slowly pushed his own chest off the floor. The pain in his abdomen suddenly spiked, which almost caused Diesel to drop himself back onto the floor. Almost.

He pushed through it and positioned his left knee under himself with a soft grunt of pain. From there, he gently eased himself into a sitting postion and placed his arms behind him to keep from falling over backwards. But, to his relief, he felt a wall just behind him that he decided to lean on. He rested his back onto the wall, closed his eyes, and began to breath deeply. That simple maneuver was onerously difficult.

Diesel opened his eyes again. The first thing he noticed was the thick metal bars that were twenty feet infront of him. He immediately glanced to his right, and then to his left. Solid, flat walls were the only things that met his vision. Diesel hesitated for a moment before he gazed above his head: solid metal ceiling.

 _I'm in a cage,_ he realized with dread.

He then remebered his situation. His last memories came flooding back in a single wave of recollection: his wound that he received in his gut, the shot in his leg, the ghastly memories of Boomer's death, and the fight he had with the Covies. He remembered the kick that he received to the face.

 _I've been captured,_ he deduced.

He needed to collect his thoughts and get a precise idea of his situation. He started by placing his hands next to his abs and examining his wound. The biofoam was gone and the cauterized flesh was fully exposed. No wonder is was hurting so badly. He then examined the hole in the thigh of the left leg of his pants. The wound in his leg wasn't bleeding but it showed of melted flesh and scared tissue. That wound was also cauterized, but as Diesel recalled, the injury was received by a crystal, not a plasma shot.

These thoughts kept bouncing around in his head until he came to a conclusion: He had been captured by the Covenant, and his leg was mended to prevent him from dying.

 _Why?_ was the the question that kept echoing in his mind.

Diesel eased himself onto his feet and slowly limped toward the bars of his cell. He grasped them with his hands and rested on them.

He couldn't fit his head through but he pressed his face as far forward as possible. Upon glancing either direction, he noticed identical cells lined up in a long series of hallways. Most of the cells were empty, but a few of them containted creatures which he recognized. They were the different races of the Covenant troops. After a while of observing he noticed that they only consisted of grunts, and those featherless, mutant chickens of which Diesel couldn't remember the name.

He then noticed something new. He strained his eyes to his right to see a human in the distance. Like himself, this human was in a cage. Unlike Diesel, however, he looked to be in his mid-thirties and had a dirty, white hoodie. He sat against the wall with his elbows resting against his knees, and his head slouched between them.

Diesel examined him for about ten seconds before he heard the sound of a door opening from the opposite direction.

Diesel gazed to his left and saw two hinge-heads sauntering through the straight corridor. Diesel instinctively withdrew his head from the bars. As they passed his cell, the one that was closest to him glanced at him with what sounded like a disgusted snarl.

Several paces later, the two aliens stopped in front of the door that held the white hooded human. One of the elites placed its four-fingered hand onto a flat pad, which lightly beeped and opened the cell door.

Diesel surmised that it was a biometric locking system.

Both elites entered the cell and exited; each holding one of the human's arms and was dragging him the same direction from which the elites came. It seemed that the man wasn't putting up any fight at all.

They passed by Diesel's cell and disappeared from sight once they exited through a door at the end of the hallway.

 _What's going on_ , Diesel thought to himself.

There was too much going on right now as it was: Diesel couldn't believe that he was alive in the first place, he just woke from a not so pleasant slumber, and Boomer was dead.

Diesel just needed some time to relax and think. He slowly eased himself into a sitting position against the wall that was next to the bars, and started to breathe relaxingly. He needed to get a few things sorted out.

* * *

Diesel's attention was caught by the sound of an opening door. He glanced in the direction of the sound and saw a couple of split-lips making their way down the corridor.

Within a few meters, they slowed their walking until they were standing still in front of the cell that Diesel was in. It was clear that the aliens were, at least, thinking about doing something that probably wasn't in Diesel's best interest.

Diesel quickly rose to a standing postion despite his injuries. He heard each of the elites emit a noise that sounded like it was a chuckle of some sort.

Diesel gritted his teeth and began to breath more heavily. He wasn't sure if they were actually going to do anything, but if they were, he was most assuredly going to put up a big fight.

One of the elites placed its hand near the cell wall and unlocked the door with the biometric lock.

Diesel squared his feet.

They both entered the jail and faced the fifteen year old human.

Diesel wasn't very knowledgable about human prisons, or even the Covenant and the different races that formed it, but Diesel was aware that bad things happen in prison. From riots, to murder, and even rape, Diesel was sure that alien prisons were not much different. Diesel had a very uncomfortable trail of thoughts that crossed his mind. He was expecting that they were going to kill him, and they were going to be very brutal about it.

The elites simultaneously advanced toward the human. One extended its arm to grab the human but Diesel swiftly grabbed on the the fingers and broke it backwards, causing the elite to recoil and yelp in pain. No sooner had Diesel attacked, when the other elite rushed the human scum and attempted to restrain it. Diesel lashed back by likewise charging the elite and began to claw and swipe at the elite's eyes like a riled wolverine. The first elite connected a punch to Diesel's face, which sent the young man spinning one-eighty before collapsing onto the cold, hard floor. The second elite wasted no time in pressing its knee into the human's back to prevent it from getting up, and further restraining Diesel by pressing its hand on the boy's right shoulder, while the other one knelt and fixed Diesel's head to the ground with its massive hand, and used its other hand to keep Diesel's left shoulder from moving.

Diesel squirmed furiously in trying to wiggle free from the split-lips' grasp, but it was of little use. The aliens were over twice his size and there were two of them. That, and he was still recovering from a couple of wounds. He couldn't help himself.

The elite that was on Diesel's back activated an energy sword right in front of the human's face. Diesel's eyes went wide with surprise as his pupils dialated with anxiety.

The creature then raised the sword just above Diesel's shoulder and very, very slowly pressed the scorching plasma into the back of the boy's right shoulder.

Diesel let out a cross between a gowl and a roar as he continued to writhe and convulse in an attempt to break loose of his captors, but the aliens held him still.

He could feel the blade slowly moving over his skin as the elite continued to press the weapon into Diesel's shoulderblade.

This lasted for over a minute before footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. The two elites froze in place as the figure came into view from outside the cell. It was a high ranking officer among the covenant troops.

The elite began to angrily shout at both of its inferiors in its native alien gibberish. The elite that was on Diesel's back deactivated its energy sword and hastily exited the cell with the other hinge-head.

Diesel raised his head from the floor and gazed at the officer. Their eyes met and they looked at each other, neither could guess what the other was thinking. But, Diesel did notice some faint hints of emotion hiding behind those alien eyes. Diesel thought he saw a momentary sparkle of pitty, but most of all he saw disgust.

With that, the elite walked away and exited the jail room.

Every part of Diesel's body hurt. None of his previous injuries had fully healed, he just received a knew one on his soulderblade, and he was further exhausted by the recent encounter with the… _prison guards_ , Diesel guessed.

Unbeknowned to Diesel, he was being observed by a fellow prisoner who was obscured by shadow in a cell across the room.

 _Maybe_ , the alien thought, _Just maybe: this human might have what it takes to escape._

* * *

Diesel sat in the corner of his cell with his back against the wall. Ever since the adrenaline subsided the pain of his body came on to the fullest extent.

Now that he had some time to think he noticed that he was a little thirsty, and a little more hungry. Coupled with the the other pains he was feeling, this was just an added insult to injury. Right now, he was just in the lowest of lows.

 _Not sure if this could get any worse,_ he thought to himself.

He heard a door opening. He heard the familiar sound of hinge-head footsteps. There where two that stopped in front of Diesel's cell door. In their grasp was one of those birdlike aliens. The door was opened and the big chicken was thrown into Diesel's cell.

With that the prison guards exited through the door that they came in just a minute ago.

Diesel peered at the body of the alien in his cell. It stirred and raised its head to look at Diesel. It let out a low grown before it got itself back onto its feet. Diesel likewise stood.

The creature then let out a low grumble from its beak as it advanced toward Diesel in a hostile manner.

 _My big mouth_ , Diesel mentally chastised himself. He had just been in this situation over an hour ago.

The alien leaped at Diesel and tackled him to the floor. It rapidly snapped its beak within inches of the human's face. Diesel had the alien restrained by the throat to keep his face from getting chewed off by the creature. He noticed that its movements were slow and uncoordinated. It also had a very skinny figure. This one must have been malnurished, which was the only reason that Diesel was still alive. Even so Diesel was struggling to keep himself from getting cut up.

Realizing that its attempts to bite its prey were unsuccessful, the bird slashed Diesel's face with its clawed hand.

Diesel's face instantly flared with pain. He clenched his left eye shut as he felt it fill with blood. The featherless freak slashed Diesel again, but this time it swiped across the right side of Diesel's face, which caused his tired self to grunt in pain.

Turning the tides a bit, Diesel clamped his right hand around the aliens' small skull, and mercilessly gouged his thumb into its big, opaque eyeball. The beast let out a shrill shriek and attempted to pull away, but the human's grip held firm. Diesel managed to flip his new cellmate onto its back and placed himself atop of the alien. Blow after blow, Diesel began to unleash a barage of openhanded strikes upon his adversary; sandwiching the creature's head between the full force of Diesel's weight and the unmovable, metal floor. The giant bird stopped moving, but Diesel didn't realize it, neither did he stop his onslaught. He kept pounding and pounding, until the skull of the alien had broken in two, and its brains began to leak out of its head.

Diesel ceased his monotonous rampage.

He pulled himself off of the alien's chest and laid himself supinely on the ground. This day just kept getting worse and worse. Diesel hesitantly stroked his fingers across his face. The new wounds were still oozing blood and his left eye was still throbbing.

 _I seriously hope that I didn't just lose an eye_ , he thought hopefully to himself. At the rate that his situation was declining he wasn't going to survive another couple of hours.

* * *

A few hours had passed, and Diesel was somewhat relieved. Apparently, the newly acquired wounds were only superficial, and Diesel was regaining sight in his eye. It seemed that his eyeball was untouched, and it was only washed over with blood. Fortunately, all of the lacerations on his face were mostly scabbed shut. This was partly due to his blood becoming thick from dehydration. Unfortunately, however, he received several claw marks on his chest region too. During the fight Diesel's adrenaline numbed the pain so much that he didn't even notice the cuts on his chest until several minutes after the fight. Those wounds had scabbed over as well.

Diesel was hungry. He was so hungry that one could say that he was famished. He hadn't had anything to eat ever since he and his brother were chased into the underground city complex by the ships that were glassing the surface, and he didn't know how much time passed from when he was captured to when he first woke up.

As far as Diesel could reason he wasn't going to be fed. Just recently he was given to be fed to something else.

 _Then why was I captured alive?_ He thought to himself in a puzzled manner.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. He slowly turned his head to the dead alien lying on the floor.

 _Food…._ he thought distantly as his mouth began to water.

But then he thought twice about it. He didn't have the means to cook anything, even in the most minimalistic of ways. He was also unsure of whether or not the alien's biology would be poisonous for human consumption.

 _But_ , he thought to himself, _I'm definitely going to die if I don't eat anything, and chances are: I'm not going to be getting any three course meals anytime soon._

He argued these points back and forth in his head, but ultimately, his feral instincts won over.

He approached the carcass and examined it. Truth be told there wasn't much meat on it, but it was better than nothing.

Diesel's father taught him that the eyeballs were always a good place to consume a wide variety of nutrients to supliment his diet. He was taught that this was particularly true when eating rabbits. Only eating rabbit meat for a prolonged period of time could give one protein poisoning. Sucking on the eyeballs mitigated this issue.

He lifted the creature's limp head to his mouth and began to milk what little moisture the eyeballs had.

After a while of that he began to consider which part of the body he should eat first. Being that he didn't have fire, he needed to choose the most tender areas and avoid the tougher muscles.

With that in mind he sunk his teeth into the neck area. He needed to first peel away the skin before he would be able to eat the neck muscles. The alien's bright purple blood had a tangy taste that was very similar to most of the animals that Diesel was used to eating.

Diesel didn't know for how long he was gnawing on the raw meat, but he was struggling to chew it properly. It wasn't very appetizing to begin with, and the fact that it was raw made it quite difficult to grind it into mouth-sized portions.

He was still rather hungry, but his logically thinking mind restrained his voratious craving. If he ate too much he would likely regurgiate his meal, which would dehydrate him even worse, and would put him back at square one in terms of staving his appetite. It would also further drain his energy, of which he had precious little amounts as it was. He just couldn't risk an upchuck, not right now. He decided that he'd wait a few hours to allow his stomach to settle.

His survival instincts and analytical mind began to operate cohesively to begin formulating a plan; an escape plan, a plan to survive his stay in prison, Diesel was unsure which it was, but he was thinking. He was sure that he needed a weapon of some sort, even something simple.

 _Just a shank would be loads of help_ , he thought.

He kept thinking about the possibilities and how he could-

 _Shank…_ Diesel thought to himself, his mind's words reverberating in his head.

He turned his head back to the sight of the carcass.

 _Bone…Shank_. A lightbulb suddenly turned on in the young man's mind.

Without much thought he decided to use one of the ribs, mostly because it would be one of the easiest to pull out. It only took him a minute or so to break a rib off from the rest of the rib cage. Diesel's luck was usually quite bad, but this wasn't one of those times. The rib broke at a fairly sharp point. That meant that he wouldn't need to sharpen it as much as he was expecting.

With his newly acquired weapon in hand he pressed the broken end on the metal floor and began to scrape the point back and forth.

While he was doing this he started thinking again. He figured that he would use the collarbone next so that he would have a straight shiv, instead of a curved, karambit shaped one.

"Human."

Diesel paused his work so that he wasn't making any noise. He listened keenly for a sound to-

Diesel snapped his head forward when he saw movement out of the corner of his vision. An alien of the same species as the dead corpse was poking its beak through the bars and stared Diesel directly in the eyes.

"Human," it was clearly adressing Diesel, "You want to escape, right?"

Diesel continued to silently gaze into the large opaque eyes of the creature.

"I've heard that you can fight. Is that true?" It further inquired.

"Where'd you hear that?" Diesel finally engaged.

"The prison guards," it answered simply, " They say that you are a dangerous human to handle, that you killed several Sangheili by yourself before they captured you."

Diesel was quiet for a moment, "Sangheili?"

The alien humored the human's inquiry, "The…" it looked like it was searching for words, "aliens… that burned a glyph into your back. I think that humans refer to them as 'elites'".

Diesel then remembered that he couldn't remember what humans called the kind of creatures that was talking with him now, "And what are you called?"

"My kind is called 'Kig-Yar', but if I remember correctly, you humans call people like me 'jackals'", this jackal seemed to be rather open with Diesel.

 _Jackals_ , Diesel repeated in his head. For the life of himself he never seemed to be able to remember that name. But, he never forgot the term 'elite', nor 'grunt' for that manner.

"What do you want?" Diesel asked. He wasn't sure why this jackal decided to converse with him.

"I want to escape, just like you." All was silent for a moment before the jackal explained further, "I understand that you have no reason to trust me, but there is a limit to what one person can do alone. I need someone who can fight, someone who has the skill and determination to escape. And right now, you're the only option that I have."

The jackal could see that the human wasn't really convinced, and so he continued to divulge, "I am incarcerated just as you are. If we work together we can escape. I know this ship, and it seems that you can fight well enough to keep me from getting shot in the back. Right now we need each other."

Diesel noticed that the jackal had a difficult time pronouncing his 'F's, and hissed like a snake when he pronounced any 'S's.

"Do you have a plan?" Diesel asked.

"Yes. I'll tell you of the details when the time is near. For now keep making weapons from those bones."

Diesel resumed scraping the bone on the metal floor, "I have a few questions."

The jackal obliged, "I would not mind answering them ." As far as the jackal was concerned he needed to gain the human's trust as much as possible. If he was going to escape he would need as much of this human's cooperation as possible. He figured that simply answering questions was a good way to earn that trust.

Diesel began, "You mentioned that those elites burned a _glyph_ into my back. What does it mean?"

The jackal seemed to be thinking pensively before answering honestly, "It does not have a litteral translation into your language, but it approximately means 'scum of the vermin'".

Diesel pondered for a moment or two about that fact. Appearantly he was nothing more that a living sack of meat that was intended to be used as something to get one's kicks out of. Those prison guards were simply entertaining their sadistic appetite on a worthless scumbag.

This brought Diesel to his second question, "Why was I captured alive?"

The jackal seemed hesitant to speak, "You are intended to be used as test for a biochemical weapon."

Diesel's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows slightly scrunched, "What does that mean?"

"The Covenant is attempting to develop a substance that is harmful only to humans."

Diesel understood fully what that was about. He didn't need to ask more on the subject. He noticed something, though. He noticed that the jackal spoke of the Covenant as something apart from himself. This made sense as he was in prison, and probably not on good terms with them. This brought to mind another question, "Why are you here?"

"I was considered unsafe and marginally heretical to the Covenant faith."

Diesel wore an expression of confusion which the jackal seemed to notice, so he explained, "Not everyone in the Covenant subscribe to the faith. My kind in particular is not pressured much to believe it, but I had a negative attitude towards the whole establishment that was deemed prison worthy."

"And you just want to escape?" Diesel said in more of a statement than a question.

"Yes," the jackal confirmed.

It appeared to Diesel that this jackal was willing to be extremely open and accepting of questions that would be unworthy for the supposed enemy, so Diesel decided to find out as much as he could.

He began, "How does the Covenant organize its invasion before and after the glassing of a planet?"

"It's the same for before and after. The fleet master oversees the whole invasion. But it is the shipmasters that organize the ground assault. Each shipmaster is tasked with destroying a designated area of the planet before and after the glassing just to be sure that nothing was overlooked."

Diesel began to assemble this new information in his head to properly formulate his next inquiry, "So, I'm on the ship that was sent to clear the area that I was in?"

"Yes," the jackal seemed unsure as to why this human would concern himself with such details.

Diesel continued, "The shipmaster of _this_ ship was responsible for capturing me?"

"Yes."

Diesel pressed further, "This shipmaster was responsible for killing all humans in his designated area?"

The jackal paused for a moment before replying,"Yes."

Diesel's face narrowed into a scowl, "What's the name of the shipmaster of this ship?"

"What?" the jackal asked in confusion.

"What's the shipmaster's name?"

The jackal didn't understand, "Why do you-"

"Answer me," Diesel interupted harshly.

The jackal hesitantly paused before complying, "Yuk… Yuk Gurvakee. Why do you wish to know?"

Diesel ceased scraping the bone on the floor as he turned his head and looked into the jackal's eyes, "So I can find him."

* * *

 **Author's Note: So that was chapter 6. The action is finally starting to get going. As I said before you read this chapter: Updates will be irregular. But, never forget to point out any mistakes that you catch. Also reviews are always welcome. I always enjoy reading all of you people's input.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Chapter Seven is here folks. I realize that it's been an inordinate amount of time since my last update; over a month, in fact. As I said last time updates won't be reliable, but I will take the proper amount of time to ensure that I write subsequent chapters properly. Anyway, enjoy the read.**

* * *

Chapter 7

A Twenty Square Foot Cage: Jail Break

* * *

"Human."

…

"Human."

…

"Human! Awaken yourself!"

Diesel stirred and opened his eyes. He glanced over to his right to see his newly aquired jackal associate starring at him through the bars.

"It is almost time to commence our plan to escape. Throw one of those bones that you sharpened to me."

Diesel looked down at the only two weapons that he produced from the jackal corpse. He picked up the collarbone shiv and tossed it through the bars. The jackal caught it.

"…So what's the plan?" Diesel inquired.

"First I need to get out so that I can get you out. After that just follow my lead."

"What are we waiting for exactly?"

"We must wait until the ship is preparing to land on Sanghelios. That is when most of the ship is… 'on deck'. This is when it will be easiest to use surprise to our advantage. Once we get to the hanger we can steal a phantom and get away."

Diesel thought he saw a hole in this plan, "What about the whole fleet? Won't we need to fight our way through them?"

"No," the jackal countered, "The fleet has split up to travel to their own destinations. If we do this properly no one will even notice something is amiss before it is too late to do anything about it."

 _Easier said than done_ , Diesel thought with realism.

Diesel began to steel himself for the coming tasks when his thoughts were interrupted.

"Here they come, human. Ready yourself," the jackal said.

Within a few seconds the door opened and a single Sangheili began to make his way down the corridor. He seemed bored and unamused. As he was passing by he happened a glance at the human. This was the moment. The jackal on the other side, without warning, sunk the bone shank deep into the elite's neck. The prison gurads eyes widened with horror as he tried to figure out what was happening. Just as seamlessly the jackal grasped the split-lip's right wrist and placed its hand onto the biometric lock. In a moment the door unlocked, allowing the bars to slide to the side, which allowed the jackal to exit his cell. Without hesitation the jackal dragged the dying body by the wrist and placed the hand on the lock of Diesel's cell.

Diesel exited just in time for the jackal to pick up the guard's plasma rifle before asking, "Can you fire a rifle, human?"

"Quite well actually," Diesel confirmed.

The jackal tossed the weapon into the air and Diesel caught it.

 _Can't be much different from a regular gun_ , he thought to himself as he examined it. It seemed to have a holograph as an optic, and the trigger was where he expected it to be. He fit his hand around the grip only to find that is didn't fit his hand properly.

 _I'll manage_ , he assured himself.

Diesel perred over at his accomplice to see that he took the guard's plasma pistol and the few grenades on his belt.

The jackal then grabbed the dead body by the collar of the armor and dragged it into his cell. He placed the corpse in the darkest corner. Diesel guessed that this was to avoid any inevitable alerts for as long as possible.

The jackal exited the cell before shutting the bars, "Follow me, but walk softly, and do not engage unless you have been seen."

Diesel simply nodded to confirm that he heard what the jackal said.

The jackal quickly but stealthily made his way to the door. Once Diesel was beside him the jackal spoke, "There are two guards on either side of the door. You kill the one on the left side. Use the bone weapon."

Diesel pulled the shank out of his belt and readied it in his hand.

Diesel let the jackal know that he was ready, and they opened the door. In a syncronized choreographic motion they sunk the knives deep into the necks. The Sangheili guards dropped instantly.

The jackal said in a hustled tone as he picked up an needler rifle, "We must proceed with haste. It will not be long before the alarm is sounded."

Diesel and his alien acquaintance made their way down passages and hallways without any hostile encounters.

 _That's odd_ , Diesel thought, _What's going on exactly? I know that all hands are on deck, but I thought that there would still be more guards stationed that weren't part of the crew._

Diesel thought about this for a few minutes when a thought suddenly occurred to him, _The ship's personnel are anxious to get off this chunk of metal… This jackal must have misunderstood the meaning of the term 'on deck'. Maybe he meant that they were just not required to be at their usual posts due to the higher-ups being a little lenient._

The two escapees halted in front of a door.

Before Diesel could ask, the jackal placed a grenade in each of the human's hands.

The jackal spoke in a hushed voice, "Press the button to activate it."

The jackal then proceeded to ready two grenades of his own, "It is a small room. Once I open the door we must throw the grenades at the same time. I'll shut the door immediately, and then we can enter."

Diesel nodded in understanding.

He used his thumbs to activate the grenades and waited for the next move. The door opened and they both tossed the explosives inside the confined room. After the door shut screams of surprise and panic could be heard from within. The grenades detonated and then everything was silent.

The two prisoners entered the room.

"Cover me," the jackal directed.

Diesel complied by crouching behind a computer module and aiming the rifle but asked, "What are you doing?"

"I am going to release all of the other prisoners aboard the ship."

Diesel's eyes squinted slightly, but didn't avert his gaze from the door, "Why?"

"We will need a distraction if we are to escape successfully."

Diesel could hear the sound effects that the computer made from the jackal typing on the hologram.

As Diesel was aiming down sights the door to the room opened to reveal three unsuspecting Sangheili gruards. Diesel opened fire but the aliens' shields held for long enough for the troopers to get behind cover.

Diesel's eyes narrowed in a scowl and his face scrunched with frustration, _I hate shields_.

Fire was passed back and forth, and Diesel was almost hit several times.

Diesel hollered to the jackal, "What ever you're doing, do it faster!"

The jackal responded in an equally stressed voice, "I am doing it as fast as I am able!"

Suddenly a loud and repetative noise began to resound throughout the ship. Diesel identified it as a siren. This was definitely an alarm for the two prisoner that were in the prison control center.

 _That's bad_ , Diesel dreaded.

"It's done!" the jackal shouted.

Diesel immediately heard a second alarm go off.

The jackal entered the firefight by throwing his last two grenades out the door. And then proceeded to fire at the the enemies that scurried from their cover to escape the coming explosion.

Diesel noticed that the needles from his friend's rifle passed right through the energy shields before piercing their targets and exploding.

"Let's move!" the jackal yelped without looking back to make sure that his accomplice was following.

As they made their way throught the ship they came across a mob of grunts and jackals rushing down a perpendicular corridor.

The jackal pulled Diesel behind cover before saying, "Let them pass; they'll attract all of the fire… and provide a diversion."

Diesel had another question, "Where to now?"

The jackal hesitated in slight confusion of the vague and incomplete sentence, "We must now make our way to the hanger."

Once the horde of angry prisoners had passed the jackal lead his human companion in the opposite direction that the mob had taken.

"Hurry," the jackal said in slightly raised voice.

Diesel was a little slow. His leg wound was causing him the most trouble, but the scabs on his face and torso were starting to rip and bleed a little. The burn on his back was not doing much better.

As Diesel observed, he noticed that almost everything from the metal to the lights were a hue of purple to varying degrees. The main interior of the ship was very different than the prison.

Diesel was jerked out of his thoughts as he was forcefully pulled behind cover by his jackal companion.

Diesel was about to ask when he saw two very large, tank-like bipedal giants marching down the the hallway toward him.

They seemed to pass by without noticing the human or the jackal, and kept walking.

Upon close examination, they looked like a couple of living, walking piles of green string-cheese that were well armored and packing heavy. The skin of the creatures were smooth and didn't appear to show much texture. Diesel never saw this kind of creature before.

They were about to turn the corner when they both stopped suddenly, and slowly turned back to look at the two prisoners.

The jackal waisted no time in bellowing, "Run!"

Diesel was right behind him. The adrenaline kicked into overdrive and the boy's wounds became numb. He turned the left corner of the hallway when another of the same creature was staring directly at him.

The jackal turned the opposite way, but not before Diesel. Together they blitzed down the corridor in a sprint; trying to get out of the creatures' firing range.

Diesel looked behind him just in time to see an immense green plasma blast coming for him. He immediately dropped belly first onto the floor. The shot flew just above his head before he jumped back onto his feet and continued his flee.

He didn't know what they were but he had a hunch that these aliens were far too powerful for the two prisoners to overcome.

He heard the jackal call to him, "The main hanger is no longer an option! We will have to settle with a couple of smaller aircrafts!"

Diesel didn't know what his accomplice was talking about but he did not have time to think about it. Right now he needed to focus on not dying at the moment.

"What are those things?!" Diesel shouted.

"They are called Mgalekgolo!" the jackal shouted back, "Just keep running!"

Diesel's wounds were really starting to act up, particularly in his leg. He couldn't keep this up for much longer and he knew it.

Even in his injured state it seemed that he was still outrunning his pursuers.

Quite soon, Diesel and the jackal came to a hallway that had an open door at the end of it. It also lead into a very large room. Diesel supposed that this was the miniature hanger that the jackal was talking about. His assessment was proven true when he entered. The room was big and empty, with the exception of many small airships lining the walls.

Diesel didn't remember the names of most of the vehicles that the Covenant used but he did know that these ships were small ground support fighters. He also could tell that these ones were designed to travel both inside and outside the atmosphere.

The jackal yelled, "Choose one!" He immediately jumped into the back of the single-man ship and began flying out of the hanger.

Diesel remembered that he was being chased so he took the notion. He crawled into the confined space.

Upon entering, the plasma rifle in his hands was taken and automatially placed into a compartment next to him.

 _Convenient_ , Diesel thought.

The ship immediately activated and began hovering just above the hanger floor.

Diesel could see that there were two glowing pads that were positioned in a convenient place for his hands. He had yet to notice a more obvious piece of equipment that was meant for driving so he placed his hands atop the pads. The ship instantly began to move.

Diesel haphazardly managed to steer himself toward the edge of the hanger before he saw a large green plasma shot flying just to the left of his ship.

The… Mgalekgolo… were still chasing him.

Ungracefully he managed to accelerate and fly away. To avoid any further risk of getting shot Diesel angled his ship downward. He noticed that the jackal was not far ahead of him either. Diesel couldn't tell for sure, but his best guess told him that he was about fifteen thousand meters above the planet surface.

All seemed to be well for a moment. Despite the odds, Diesel managed to escape that prison. Now all he needed to do was get away. He wasn't sure what it was that he'd do next, not exactly, but the hard part was over.

Diesel was jerked from his pondering when he noticed the ship in front of him was shot by a medium sized-plasma blast. It was perfectly placed too. It was shot directly in the thruster at the end of the right wing. The ship spun out of control as it became engulfed in flame. Diesel could only watch in mortification.

The ship exploded and sent shrapnel in every direction. A piece of the wing hurdled straight for Diesel. He saw it coming but there was nothing that he could do about it.

… _Gotta be kiddin' me._

The shrapnel smashed into the side of his ship. It bounced off but not without taking one of the wings with it. Sirens began to loudly reverberate inside the confined space of the cockpit as Diesel lost control of the ship. His ship was spinning, tumbling, and turning as he plummeted from the sky. All he could do now was hang on tight. The chances of surviving a crash-landing from this altitude were slim to none, but this did little to shake Diesel's determination. Living his whole life in the wilderness like he did had honed his animal side into an unstoppable force of a will to survive.

Diesel's body had locked into a stiff knot as he braced for impact. Sweat drizzled down his face and his teeth were clenched as he readied himself for the inevitable.

The shuttle colided into the surface with a jaring jolt. The sudden force knocked the breath out of Diesel hard enough to cause him to grunt.

The ship seemed to tumble non-stop. Diesel didn't know for how long it would last, but the powerful inertia from the tumbling of the space-craft was causing him to come closer to blacking-out with each passing moment.

He knew that he needed to stay awake. If he became unconscious there was no telling how long it would be before he woke up. If soldiers were sent down to inspect the wreckage, then Diesel knew that he was screwed.

He began to loose feeling in his limbs as his sight became dark and tunnel-visioned. He could hear and feel his heartbeat throbbing in his ears, and his breath felt constricted.

Just when Diesel felt sure that he was going to go unconscious, the ship came to a swift but smooth stop. As he continued to breath he regained feeling in his limbs, and his head was becoming more clear. He just survived the collision. Diesel let out a deep sigh in relief.

He was tired. He had a really rough week, but he was still on top of the dirt.

He began moving to get himself out of the wreckage when a sudden and excruciating jolt of pain spread from his left forearm to the entirety of his shoulder. Diesel let out a cry of pain that was almost loud.

He flopped out of the ship and lay on his side. He looked to his forearm to assess the problem to his pain. What he saw caught his breath in his throat. He had a compound fracture of both his radius and his ulna protruding from the midsection of the forearm. He wasn't bleeding too badly, but the crimson liquid still covered the whole wound. The pain never subsided. It was constant and unrelenting. The agony became a little reduced after every pulse of his body only to intensify at the next beat of his heart. The pain was so intense that he could feel a more minor pain throughout his whole arm. It must have been broken during the collision.

Using the adrenaline that still freshly flowed through his blood stream he used his right arm to push himself onto his feet. He was slightly hunched as to keep his left appendage dangling away from anything that could bump into it. Upon glancing at his surroundings he realized that he was standing in sand. In fact almost every directing seemed to be a long and semi-flat plain of sand and dirt. Almost. In one direction there was what seemed to be foliage of some kind. There were trees and shrubs. At least that's what Diesel made them out to be.

He advanced one step toward the forest when he remembered something: he had a weapon in the ship. He clumsily staggered toward what was left of the ship and reached inside to grab the plasma rifle in his right hand.

He then redirected himself toward the forest and began his trek. It seemed that it wasn't any more that three kilometers away. Inch by brutal inch, step by grueling step, Diesel made his way to the timberline.

Upon entering the sylvan environment he marched about another hundred meters before he sat himself against a tree.

Diesel had no idea where he was. His brain was running at a million miles an hour. He had yet to come to grips with the fact that he had a broken arm. His previous injuries were still giving him a little grief. He just needed to slow down and clear his mind.

Diesel mentally pushed past the pain in his arm and began to steadily breath through his nose. He closed his eyes to give more focus to his breathing. It took him a minute to fully compose himself, but he was ready to start thinking.

The first and foremost problem was that he had a broken arm. He just survived an aerial collision into the surface of a planet. He tried to remember anything he could about it. Was he ever given any information about the planet? After some further pondering he recalled his time in the prison cell when the jackal mentioned the reason for the timing of their escape. The jackal's words resounded clearly throughout the human's mind, "We must wait until the ship is preparing to land on Sanghelios."

 _Sanghelios_ , Diesel repeated in his mind.

After a moment of staring off into space he simply discarded the information as it was not relevant to his immediately dire situation. The very first thing he needed to do was to reset his arm and splint it. Of all the wounds that were not immediately lethal, a broken arm was the worst, or a broken leg. Diesel was unsure which one would be the worst.

Diesel had never had a broken bone in all of his life. Being that his mother was a medical doctor, and he was exposed to this type of scenario in some basic medical instruction when he was little, he knew what he needed to do in order to mend his arm. The issue was that he had no experience in doing so. He was also going to be doing this entirely on his own.

Diesel sighed, _Give me a break._

Diesel began to think about what it was that he had to mend his arm. He needed something to splint his arm and then something to hold it in place. Just by glancing around he found some suitable sticks to splint the bones, now all he needed was a material to wrap the splint. Then, it clicked, _My T-shirt._

Despite the cuts and rips all over the cloth, the OD green garment was still intact enough to tie wooden sticks to his arm. At least his luck was not bad enough to deny him a usable shirt.

Now the only thing he needed was something to anchor his arm to help him reset it. It only took him a moment to consider the use of a tree that branched off into a "V" shape. Conveniently the tree that he was resting against had just what he was looking for.

Diesel slowly helped himself to his feet before he cumbersomely took his shirt off. He used his teeth and his good hand to rip the cloth into sizable strips.

He placed the tattered cloth onto the tree before proceeding to collect a couple of suitable sticks.

Pushing through the pain he stood with his feet square before placing his wrist into the "V" of the branches and prepared to reset the bones. After he set them the swollen tissue should have kept enough tension on the arm to keep it straight. After that all he would need to do was apply the splint and wrap it in his shirt.

Being fully aware of the pain to come he simply took a deep breath in and pulled. Pain immediately shot through his arm as the muscle stretched and bone moved. Diesel's face narrowed as he growled through his teeth, but he did not stop himself from pulling on his arm. Much of the pain was actually seeing his arm flex and stretch in unnatural ways. He only needed a few more inches before the bone was in place to be set properly. One centimeter at a time he pulled the broken ends together. His breathing was a little sporadic and he was sweating heavily.

Knowing that the bones were far enough apart to be put back in place, he used the open wound in his arm to look at the area that he was trying to fix. With an equally slow and steady motion he eased the broken halves of his forearm together. He soon felt no pressure on his left appendage. When Diesel examined it, it seemed to be straight. Though, he couldn't be sure because of the inflamed flesh.

With no better solution coming to mind, Diesel eased his right index finger into the open cavity that was created by the bone puncturing through the skin. It was unimaginably difficult to focus on feeling for any misalignment in the bone when he was simultaneously wiggling his finger underneath his own skin.

But, as far as he could discern, the bone was properly placed where it was supposed to be.

With the hard part complete, he carefully took his arm out of the tree and prepared for the next part: applying the splint.

As gently as he could, he positioned the two sticks on either side of his forearm and began wrapping the branches firmly to his arm. It still hurt, but not as badly as it did a minute ago.

The handicap of having functionality in only one arm not withstanding, Diesel knew that a human bone would not be fully healed until about six weeks after the break. Six weeks was plenty of time to die of dehydration, starvation, freezing to death during the night, eaten by predators, the list went on.

Now he needed a plan.

 _What's the plan?_ he thought to himself. Now would be a great time for Boomer's guidance.

 _Boomer,_ his mind echoed as his eyes began to well with tears. Until now Diesel did not have the time to think about it, but now that he had, those suppressed emotions that he had held in for the past few days were now beginning to resurface. Moreover, it hurt more than the throbbing in his arm.

The physical pain seemed to dissipate as he began to sob into his palm.

The question that kept bouncing in his head was "Why?" Why was this happening to him? Why was everything that mattered to him just taken from him? What had he done to deserve it? Who did he anger? Who was it that he had wronged?

After a while the tears stopped flowing and Diesel regained his composure. Now he needed to act. The first thing he needed was food and water. Aside from the small portions of jackal meat that he had consumed while in prison, Diesel had not had anything to eat ever since he was captured.

Taking care to accommodate for his broken arm, Diesel got onto his feet and picked up the plasma rifle with his good hand and began to walk. He wasn't walking to any particular place. He was just searching for signs of life, signs of potential prey, and water.

 _Please tell me this place has water,_ he internally groaned.

* * *

Diesel lowered himself onto his belly and dipped his head next to the flowing stream in front of him. The refreshing cool liquid did well to sooth him in the blistering heat of the day, as well as give him just a little more energy.

The days on this planet seemed longer than that on Kholo. This was largely due to the fact that this planet had three suns. This was also the reason that it was always so hot. It never became night. There was a time in which the planet would become darker, but it was more like a recurring overcast than anything else.

Diesel estimated that it had been about a week since he landed on the surface, but with no method to track time in a system that he was familiar with, he couldn't be so sure. Since he landed, he had been getting by with eating small rat-like creatures that seemed to be everywhere, but this was not sustainable. Because of his broken arm, he couldn't start a fire, which made eating an arduous chore. He had thought about eating some of the native flora, but he had no idea of the state of it's palatability. With how badly his situation was, he just could not afford experimenting like that. As it was, he was risking enough by eating raw meat of an unknown creature.

Much to Diesel's relief, he had not come across any predators that were sizable enough to threaten him. He wondered how long his good luck would last on that one.

The arid heat had compelled him to try to sleep during the day and hunt for food during the "night time", but the day was long enough to outlast his biological clock. He just couldn't stay asleep that long. Reversing his tactics didn't fit him perfectly either, but it was better that trying to be nocturnal. The scorching suns had also put him in danger of severe sunburn. He needed to be constantly mindful of his exposure.

He helped himself sit next to a tree in the shade. His arm still hurt and often kept him awake when he tried to sleep. His other injuries had mostly healed, though. All of his other wounds were completely scabbed, and many of them were mostly scars. The few times that Diesel looked into the water and at his reflection, he saw a severely marred face of slashes that made his complexion just slightly less healthy.

He had a cut that ran diagonally from just under his right eye and almost touched the crevice of his nose before continuing across his upper lip and down to his lower lip before ending at the left side of his chin.

The second scar was a simple and straight line that ran vertically from his forehead just above his left eye and almost touched the left corner of his mouth. Fortunately the damage was only superficial. The skin of his eyelid was completely untouched, and his vision was not at all impaired. The jackal that gave him the mark had missed his eyeball.

The third was a shorter one that ran horizontally on his upper left cheek and crossed the second scar.

He examined his arm. So far as he could tell, it hadn't moved. If it had, he figured that it would be painful enough to let him know. Such pain had not occurred since he splinted his arm. However, over the course of a while, the area of the break was gradually becoming higher in temperature and the swelling never seemed to go down.

He did not unravel the shirt from his splint, but he separated the wrap to inspect the open wound in his arm. When he saw it fully, he realized that it hadn't scabbed. It was still moist, and it had yet to harden. The tissue was puffy and a little brown. Diesel eased his nose toward the open cavity and took a long whiff.

Diesel instinctively recoiled his head from his arm. The flesh smelled fetid and dying. The wound was infected.

Diesel groaned, _Gotta' be kiddin' me._

Diesel thought about finding some maggots to eat away the necrotic tissue, but dismissed the idea as quickly as it came. The fact was that he did not even know if this planet had anything like maggots at all. Even further, he would have no way of telling if it was the right kind of maggot. The only reference that he'd have was from the lifeforms of other planets, and that was incomparable. Every planet was unique with its unique ecosystems and wildlife. Maggots was not an option.

With no better idea coming to mind, he decided that he would do the best he could. He unsheathed his bone knife from his pants and used it to scrape away the dead skin. It was painful, but manageable.

When he was satisfied, he covered the wound with cloth again.

Only time would tell if what he was doing was good enough.

* * *

Diesel's head throbbed with an unbearable ache. He was unmistakably fevered, and he was sweating profusely. The necrotic tissue had returned to the wound in his arm, and he had been throwing up on a regular basis; so much so that he could rarely keep his raw meal in his stomach. The infection in his arm had become systemic and he knew it.

He had been combating this sickness for a couple days now, and he was loosing the fight. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't reduce his fever. Not even the water from the stream offered much help.

Diesel lay supinely underneath a well shaded bush. He was tired and was dying. He didn't have the strength to hunt food, and it was too long since he last successfully digested anything.

The sweat from his face drizzled down his long, black hair, and his breathing was gradually growing weaker.

Diesel knew that if he succumbed to the urge to sleep, he would never wake up. If he shut his eyes to rest it would be permanent. But, despite his best efforts, the human body was only capable of withstanding so much abuse before it failed, and it was apparent that Diesel had reached that point.

"Oh God," he desperately grumbled in a barely audible voice, hardly able to force the air past his lips, "please help me."

Unable to struggle anymore, his eyes lidded, and his breathing slowed. Within seconds the darkness claimed him as he fell into a sleep from which he could never awaken.

* * *

 **Author's Note: As mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, I don't know when the next will be out. Keep those reviews and critiques coming. They always help to keep me motivated. With that said, I'm looking forward to the next chapter update.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: The Next Chapter is finally here. I realize that it has been an unholy length of time since anyone has last heard from me. Many of you probably thought that the story had ended or it had been cancelled. I'm happy to demonstrate that neither of these is the case. Anyway, I'll just let you get to reading. I do recommend, however, that you READ THE PREVIOUS TWO CHAPTER AGAIN SO THAT YOU REMEMBER CERTAIN DETAILS THAT YOU LIKELY FORGOT ABOUT BY NOW.**

* * *

Chapter 8: Homecoming

"What a strenuous day," said Yuk Gurvakee as he rubbed the sides of his forehead with his fingers. In all of his years of being a shipmaster, he had never had such a thing happen before. Somehow the entire prison of the ship had released all of the inmates, which had caused quite a disturbance aboard the ship.

Many of the prisoners had been killed during the event. The ones that weren't were locked back into their cells. By the end of the whole ordeal, thirteen of the ship's members had been killed and several more were injured.

It was somewhat ironic. Despite all of the battles that they have seen and then survived, the warriors that were killed had died at the hands of criminals in a simple prison riot. Yuk was already under heavy political pressure. This was not something that he needed to add to it.

Yuk mumbled under his breath, "I despise politics."

But, today was still to be a good one. Today was one of the few days that Yuk was able to visit his family. It had been too long since he had seen his mate, or his own offspring for that matter.

Traditionally, a Sangheili was unpermitted to know who their father was, at least not until they had come of age. This was intended so that a young Sangheili would earn their own honor, and not feel proud of one's own lineage. This was a tradition that almost all Sangheili followed ardently, and refusing to follow it was deemed shameful within Sangheili culture.

Aside from himself, Yuk was sure that there were Sangheili that didn't adhere to that tradition, but certainly none that held a rank as high of Shipmaster as he did. This was what had caused the most hard ache for Yuk's social status. It did not ease things being that the Gurvak Keep was a very powerful and well respected Keep.

The Covenant military did not usually care for Sangheili culture. The Prophets generally left the Sangheili to their own social problems. This was one of the reasons that Yuk held the position that he did. Despite being looked down upon by many fellow Sangheili, he was a valuable commanding asset to the Covenant.

Yuk had two children. His firstborn was his daughter: Kel Gurvak. She was as strong and beautiful as Sangheili women could come, and with a graceful figure. In a few summers she would be considered an adult. She was tall and lithe, but very lean and muscular. She was an exceptionally athletic female. The skills of combat had come naturally to her, and she was considered by many as the best female warrior within the Gurvak Keep. Despite her strong warrior-like abilities and figure, she had a kind and loving nature, just like her mother. There was rarely a time when she did not have a genuinely pleasant smile on her face. She was playful and energetic, and and her open social nature made it difficult for anyone to dislike her.

Yuk's other child was male: Fa'nak Gurvak. He was not quite an adolescent, but had the energy of one. As of yet, he wasn't by any means the best fighter in his class, but he had a sense of determination that rivaled that of his sister. He was often taunted and physically antagonized by his piers for having a relationship with his father. His sister occasionally received a foul gaze for it, but she never suffered the same trouble that he was undergoing. It often lead to the others of his age banding together against Fa'nak during a sparing session. It was always a hassle for the instructors to end the petty fighting.

Yuk, being in the position that he was, had little that he could do about it. It was bad enough that the youngling knew who his father was, but for the father to intervene in such matters that were always reserved for the instructors was not something that would make the situation any better, neither for Yuk nor his son.

Yuk was the Kaidon of his own keep, and he had evaded six attempted assassinations against him. One had even attempted to murder his daughter. Anyone that posed a danger to him or his family, Yuk deemed unworthy to live. This was the predominant reason that he was still in power.

The ship landed and all of its occupants were eager to get off. With some preparation and protocol, the prisoners aboard the ship were transferred onto the surface. From there they were no longer Yuk's responsibility.

Looking around, Yuk could see Sangheili warriors of every age and rank being joyfully welcomed by their families as they made their ways to their respective abodes. It brought a smile to his face.

The whole city was bustling and vibrant with life and activity. More so than usual due to the temporary return of the Covenant soldiers.

Yuk's house was, more or less, in the center of the city. Being Kaidon came with special privilages. One of them was having a high standard of living space.

Yuk entered his house and began to make his way to his room. He hadn't taken more than ten steps when someone came flying around a doorway and ran his way, "Father!"

Yuk extended his arms outward as an invitation for an embrace, "Kel," he replied with a smile.

She almost tackled her father to the ground and wrapped her arms around Yuk's chestplate. She squeezed her head against the armor and gave him a firm hug.

Kel let go of her sire and gazed into his eyes with her vibrant amber orbs.

"I missed you," she said with a energetic smile plastered on her face.

"Likewise, my darling," he replied in his low voice as he gently stroke the head of his beloved daughter.

Yuk asked, "Where is your brother?"

He had not finished that sentence when he felt a little Sangheili jump from the ceiling and into his back.

Yuk was a little startled, but he soon realized that it was his son that decided to greet his father with a little surprise.

The young boy was laughing jovially, and Yuk likewise began gigling as he lazily attempted to pull his son off of his back.

With both his children in front of him he asked, "Is there any big news for me?"

Fa'nak immediately blurted, "I solved my arum!"

Yuk chuckled, "Have you, now?"

Kel interupted, "It is almost time for dinner, Father."

"Well then," Yuk began, "it seems that we should ready ourselves for the meal. You two get prepared. I must undress myself of my armor."

Both of Yuk's offspring simultaneously nodded, "Yes, Father," before heading for the kitchen.

Yuk glanced to his right to see a woman standing in the doorway with her weight rested on one leg as she leaned her arm against the frame of the door. She was his mate, Rali.

The Sangheili man smiled and in turn she smiled back before sauntering towards him, and embracing him with a gentle hug.

"Rali," he adressed her.

"It has been too long," she answered.

"How has it been since I left?" he asked while not being entirely eager to know the answer, which was likely bad news.

She left the embrace and replied with honesty, "It could be worse, but it would be much better if you were with us more often."

Yuk nodded, "I know. This war with the humans has put heavy demands on all of us."

Rali smiled, "I would like to hear of your exploits before you leave again."

"Of course," he said, "But first I must undress myself from this armor, and wear something that offers more comfort."

He started walking toward his bed chamber before his mate followed, "Allow me to assist you."

He smiled back, "I shall not object."

Once Yuk was garbed with his tunic, he had joined the rest of his family for dinner. The talk consisted mostly of mear banter, but it was time well spent. The fact that Yuk's family had their won private family meals, and their own bedchambers and such, had only added to the social issues for Yuk's children. Being the mate of Yuk in this situation was even more strenuous, for she had to manage the keep while Yuk was executing the will of the prophets. But, family time spent like this was one of the many small ways that reminded all of them that it was worth the ostracization and threats of assassination.

The whole family was happy to have the father home again.

The servants cleaned the area after the meal, and the children had gone to bed. It was not long after that Yuk and Rali had gone to their own bedchamber.

They had not been laying there for long before Rali spoke, "Has their been any notable events since last you were home?"

Yuk pondered for a moment before responding, "Not really. We successfully glassed a human planet. But there are a few strange things that happened."

Rali snuggled closer to her mate and smiled playfully, "I am listening."

Yuk chuckled before continuing, "During the invasion of the humans' planet we were ordered to…"

Rali perked her head, "Yes?"

Yuk seemed to be formulating the proper way to express it, "The Prophets gave us orders to capture some humans and take them prisoner."

Rali's brows quirked in confusion, "What?"

"Yes," Yuk reaffirmed, "I was likewise perplexed."

"How many?" Rali inquired.

"We captured twenty-six."

Rali questioned further, "Why would the Prophets want living humans?"

"I do not know."

Rali seemed to be in deep contemplative thought. These facts did not seem to make sense. The Prophets themselves had declared humans to be dangerous and unclean beings. And yet, they needed some to be taken prisoner.

"Is there something else that is unsettled your mind?" she asked.

Yuk seemed hesitant to respond, "There was one human that… it… I am not sure how to describe it. It was only an adolescent, but it was tenatious and enraged. It managed to kill one of my Stealth Sangheili warriors, and a fellow swordsman. I could see the hate and fury in its eyes. There is something about it that unnerves me."

Rali questioned, "There is something else, isn't there?"

"We had a breakout in the prison today. We managed to contain the ones that we did not kill, but among them I did not find that human; not in the casualty count nor the remaining prisoners. It may just have been a simple miscalculation due to the recent mayhem, but I can not seem to shake this feeling of dread."

Rali placed a reassuring hand on her mate's chest, "Do not be discouraged. All will be well."

Yuk sighed in such a way to communicate that his mate had done little to calm his unsettled mind.

"If you still remain unconvinced,"Rali said before she stretched her neck and licked Yuk across the lower mandible, "Perhaps I can persuade you a little." She finished with a playful smile.

Yuk smiled back. He got the hint.

* * *

Yuk had awoken early in the morning. He had been absent from the job of Keep Lord for quite some time and he needed to tend to several issues.

Ranging from requests of other Keeps to discuss possible husbands for his daughter to simple and petty complaints from his own council, Yuk had his next few days accounted for. This wasn't how he wanted to spend his time while he was home, particularly since he had very little time as it was. Rali had managed to keep the local politics afloat, but doing it as long as she did was very degenerating.

But he managed to spent the later half of the afternoon with his children whenever they weren't busy with their sparing instructors and the like.

Fa'nak was eager to show his solved arum to his dad, and the gem that was inside it. Among the time he spent with his son, Yuk was rather proud of Fa'nak's strong spirit. Despite his unusual predicament, he never let the degradation of his piers get the better of him.

"Father," came a feminine voice.

Yuk turned his head to see his daughter addressing him. A slight but genuine grin etched itself into Yuk's features.

The two embraced.

After breaking the hug Yuk was the first to speak, "I have been meaning to ask you ever since I returned home: how have you been faring?"

"All has been well. I have been progressing well in my training. The instructors say that I'll make one of the best Home Guards that the Keep has to offer."

Yuk grinned with pride, "Of course you will."

Kel smiled back, but it was only half hearted, and this was not unnoticed by her father.

"Kel, what is bothering you?" Yuk asked in a warm voice.

Kel seemed to be holing back, "It… It's nothing."

Yuk was not buying it, "Kel what is it?"

That loving voice that her father used was one that Kel could never refuse to trust, in a way she viewed it as a form of cheating in a game, but in a matter of social circumstances. Whenever Yuk used that tender and gentle voice, it seemed that nobody could refuse whatever he asked for.

Kel sighed deeply, "We all have missed you greatly."

"I understand," he acknowledged.

Kel continued, "You have almost always been away from home."

"Yes," he affirmed.

Kel got right to the point, "Why do you have to be away fighting so often?"

"This war with the humans has demanded much from us all."

"I understand," said Kel, "but why? I have always been taught that the humans are an unclean abomination that must be extinguished from existence. But, I still do not understand why. The more that I am told about the humans, the more they intrigue me more than anything. I do not understand why they have been deemed as such. No one has ever given me a reason other than that it was the decree of the Prophets. And this is the reason that you are rarely home?"

Yuk knew where this conversation was going, so he cut to the chase, "Kel, I understand your frustration, but you must not voice your concerns about the Prophets, no right now. All of us are suffering from enough as it is. You, your brother, and your mother are dealing with great political problems as it is. You already know that the fact that I am a swordsman means that I can not legally marry your mother, and the fact that I refuse to mate with anyone but her has put the Sangheili under my jurisdiction in distrust of me. My own father won't even acknowledge me. That last thing that any of us need is to have the official rule of the Covenant to also have a distaste for us also."

Yuk inhaled deeply before continuing, "Please, do not speak of these thought of your's to anyone."

Kel understood her father's reasoning and nodded respectfully, "Yes, Father."

Yuk embraced his child, to which she returned the gesture.

No sooner had the parted, when an armor clad Sangheili warrior entered the house.

The stranger was the first to bow and then speak, "I apologize, sir, for this intrusion, but there is an urgent matter at hand."

"What is it?" asked Yuk.

* * *

Yuk examined the wreckage around him. The object of focus was a mostly intact banshee slightly buried in the dirt, but there was also shards of another strewn about the scene. Upon examination the ships were confirmed to be from his own Carrier, but how they got here was a slight mystery. There were no footprints leading to or from the ship, but this may have been due to the semi frequent winds that blew through this area.

The cockpit was entirely empty of equipment as well a anyone, there were no signs of someone being here and there were no reports on the matter.

Something wasn't right, and Yuk had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So now we have a story from a different character's perspective. As always, point out any mistakes that you find, grammatical or spelling. As I said last update: I don't know when the next update is going to come around. But, it will come around eventually. I realize that this was a ridiculously short chapter, but I intend for this to be the shortest; the rest of the chapter should be longer from here on.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: So... I realize that this chapter is super short. Sorry 'bout that. But do take this as a confirmation that I have not given up on our guys yet. I'm a senior in High School. So I've been busy. Anyway, here is the next chapter. Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 9: The Drive to Survive

Heartbeat.

The faint glow of sunlight emanated into his dark and blurry vision.

Heartbeat.

The pulses of his body made stars flicker in the foreground of his eyes.

Heartbeat.

His lidded eyes cracked open only to squint shut again from the sudden input of bright light into his dark hazel orbs.

Heartbeat.

He felt his chest rise and fall with the rhythm of his breathing.

The intensity of the light thumping in his chest was beginning to diminish.

His eyes began to properly adjust to the light, and he slowly opened them again. His vision was blurry at first, but within a few seconds his eyes focused, and he could see clearly again. Diesel peered at the environment around him. The surrounding foliage showed vibrantly in the fresh breeze as the bright sunlight warmed everything it touched.

Diesel was a little confused. He didn't remember where he was, or why he was there; lying underneath a green bush. He motioned to get up from his supine position, but was immediately halted by a painful strain in his left arm.

He glanced at his appendage and noticed the splint that held it straight and the fragments of a shirt that held it together. Then, in an instant, it all came back to him in a single wave of recollection.

The crash that broke his arm, splinting it afterwards, and the fever that ravaged him; he remembered everything.

This recalling of recent memories still didn't satisfy his confusion. He remembered how he felt his life leaving him; how the sickness and malnutrition had pushed him to the brink of death. Diesel thought for sure that he had died.

 _Guess not_ , he grinned cockily to himself with relief, _Guess I'm a Hugh Glass of my own right._

Upon further pondering of his situation, he remembered learning from his mother, long ago, of how sometimes a lethal sickness would put someone into a coma. It was even rarer for someone to wake up from it without medical attention, but it wasn't unheard of.

Diesel grimaced humorously, _S'pose my luck ain't run out yet._

He then retried to make himself sit up, taking special care to gently cradle his arm. Using the plasma rifle laying next to him, he steadily helped himself to his feet.

Due to his lack of energy and how exhausted he was, his shoulders were slightly slumped and he stumbled a little like he was in a drunken stupor. He was quite thirsty, but at least he remembered were the river was.

Before he reached it, though, he remembered that he didn't check the condition of his arm. With this new thought in mind, he sat down and began uncovering his arm from the cloth, but not unraveling it. It seemed that it was actually getting better. It was obvious that it was recently infected, but the stench was diminishing and tissue wasn't festering. Just when all seemed lost, his drive to survive still pulled through.

With that order of business done, he continued his way to the river.

He kneeled, and bent his head towards the stream and guzzled. It wasn't until now that he realized how parched he really was.

Diesel didn't hear or see anything, but his instincts prompted him to look up from his drinking and slightly to the left. Diesel remained absolutely still. On the other side of the stream, staring back into his eyes, stood a furry dog-like quadruped that didn't move a muscle from its position. But after a few long seconds it began to growl. Instinctively, Diesel slowly grabbed the plasma rifle in his right hand and raised it toward the animal. It lowered its perked ears and flared its mandibles.

Taking careful aim with his one arm, he quietly exhaled and squeezed the trigger. The gun fired. A swift bolt of plasma flew through the air and hit its mark perfectly: headshot.

The standing carcass rag-dolled and landed with a thud on the ground.

Diesel inhaled, and stood from his kneeling stance.

The hunger pains reintroduced themselves upon seeing the fresh mound of meat, and his mouth began to water. For the amount of time he was on this planet (he guessed it was a week or so), he only had overgrown, kangaroo-rat like varmints to eat, and raw no less.

Taking little care about wet feet, he walked through the shallow water to the other side to inspect his kill.

He touched the torso to find that it was warm-blooded, and this animal was no more than a hundred kilograms. The blood, though, was a strange indigo color. He sucked whatever juice he could from the eyes.

He was weak from malnutrition, but now that he wasn't sick, he was thinking more coherently. He needed a fire; that much was certain. But, with his broken arm he couldn't use a spindle. He _needed_ a fire, but how was he going to get one, being in the condition that he was.

The cogs in his mind began rotating again; his resilience still persisting.

Diesel clenched his teeth in determination, _I'm not dying today._

He grabbed the carcass by the nape of the neck and dragged it across the river and to his bush, where he usually lay under.

It was time to gather some materials for fire. He started with some twigs that he found on the ground, a handful of dry, moss like stuff, and finally some wood with which he intended to start a fire.

With only one functioning arm, he used his feet to stabilize his work. He began by using his bone shank to carve a groove into the side of a thin half of a log, and then carved the end of a stick to an edge. Then it was just a matter of repetitively rubbing the edge inside the groove, back and forth.

Diesel didn't know exactly for how long he was doing it, but the blistering suns were beating down on him through the trees with a relentless ardor. By the time he was getting a substantial amount of smoke, a bead of sweat trickled down his face before dripping off his nose. His right arm was getting tired, and his other was beginning to throb a little with pain from his elevated heart rate. But, he didn't stop. If he gave up now, his chances of starting a fire in his condition would be even less.

The smoke began increasing, so Diesel likewise increased the pace of his stroking. Back and forth, Back and forth, back and forth, like an endless loop of monotony, Diesel seemed to be in a trance as he persisted in his task.

Then, after several minutes of hard work, a little ember was given life. Its tiny glow flickered like a distant star. Its frail existence held onto life like a sickly infant. This faint pile of burning wood was finally ready to save the life of its creator.

Diesel breathed a heavy exhale of relief and exhaustion before proceeding to place the little ember into the handful of dry moss and began gently blowing into it. Within seconds, flame emerged from the tinder bundle. The hard part was over.

Diesel placed the burning moss onto a few sticks and began placing his kindling on top of the tinder. From there on, the process went without a hitch.

Diesel had a healthy fire and would soon have a good bed of coals. He began dissecting the animal carcass of some of the most easily accessible meat: the shoulder. Diesel had found a rock that was flat but not too heavy to carry, and this was how he'd cook his food. Once the flames subsided, he placed the rock in the center of the coal bed and let his meat sizzle on it.

It didn't take long for the stake to be cooked enough. Using a stick, he picked it off of the rock. He touched it with his fingers and instinctively recoiled from the sudden heat. The meat was too hot to handle at the moment, so he waited. Once it was cooled enough he began eating despite his lack of a fork, but taking care to not eat too fast despite his ravenous appetite, as he knew this would induce stomach sickness and potential vomiting. Diesel felt invigorated by the meal, but it did taste a bit strange. It was different than any meat he had ever tasted, but he figured it was mostly due to the indigo blood of the animal. But as it was, he didn't mind so much. After all, he hadn't had an actual meal since he was captured back on Kholo.

He was still very hungry, but knew that he should wait a few hours before eating more. So he did.

In the meantime, he took his boots and socks off his feet to let them dry. When he was ready, he ate again.

While eating he started to think. He knew that a human bone required approximately six weeks to heal. It would usually take more time to be fully recovered, but it would usually be usable by that time. He figured that he broke his arm about a week ago, so it would be a little over a month until his arm would be usable again. And that was if he didn't encounter any more complications.

To his luck, he just made a kill and was able to eat. But how reliable was that, really? For the whole week that he had been on this planet, he hadn't encountered this kind of creature before. This got him to thinking, mostly the question 'why?'

But, upon further pondering, he thought of a way that, maybe, he could find were to find more of these things: perhaps this one left some tracks. If it did, maybe he could follow them.

For now, though, he was just going to recuperate his strength.

* * *

After a day had passed, Diesel followed the paw prints that the animal left in the forest floor, which lead to a den. There was another of the same creature in it, and Diesel shot it without much hassle. Afterwards, he found several… _pups?_ of the same animal in that den. There wasn't much he could do for them. He didn't have the time or energy to deal with them, and he didn't care much to kill them. With that, he dragged the new carcass to the same place as his other kill.

It was the same process as yesterday, except he didn't have to start the fire because he kept it alive long enough to have usable coals in the morning.

He built a primitive shelter to keep the sun off himself when he slept. He also moved his sleeping place next to the river. He figured that the river's smell would mask his own just a little. It also made drinking at his own convenience much easier. His day consisted mostly of eating the flesh of his first kill and just getting his strength back. He just sat around eating whenever he could and resting. He slept much better that night.

* * *

Diesel woke to the sound of a whiny noise. Being mindful of his arm, he rolled over from his supine position and peered to the environment around him.

He immediately spotted a baby of the creature that he had been eating. Within a second or two, he deduced that it was one of the pups from the den. He must have killed mom and dad, and now the youngling was searching for them, perhaps for some food as well.

 _Tough little guy, aren't you,_ Diesel smirked.

Diesel picked up a few of the 'kangaroo-rats' that he recently killed and began approaching the youngling across the river. It took notice and crouched low, but Diesel kept his slow and steady pace. With his feet still in the water, he stretched out his hand and dangled the morsel by the tale. The little pup likewise stretched its neck to smell the little animal. It gently took it in its mandibles and began chewing it lightly before becoming more vigorous in its eating. Its mandibles curled and grabbed the rat like four long and spindly fingers.

When it seemed to be done, Diesel offered another rat, this time scooting a little closer as he did so.

It wasn't long before Diesel managed to snatch the little guy in his one good arm. It was quite panicked at first, but Diesel's firm yet gentle grip subdued the creature for a moment. Taking advantage of the timing, Diesel offered another rat while he held the cute little fur ball to his bosom.

The creature began to relax and make itself comfy while Diesel offered another morsel to it. Diesel sat down and placed the little guy in his lap.

"Lookin' for Mom and Dad, weren't you?" Diesel asked it.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. It was either me or them. As it was I didn't have much of a choice."

The creature took notice of that fact that Diesel was making noise, but returned its attention to eating.

"You seem quite hungry. Sorry about your siblings, but there's not much I can do for them."

The creature didn't seem to acknowledge Diesel's conversation.

"As it is, I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep you fed. I can't spend all my time catching these rats, and I can't exactly feed you… whatever it is that you are."

Diesel paused for a moment, "Guess we'll see how it turns out."

Its mandibles halted and gazed upwards into Diesel's eyes with its orange slits.

"You're just so cute. I'd hate to have to eat you."

The creature continued to devour its morsel.

"You know, if you're gonna be stickin' around here for awhile, I'm gonna have to call you something other than 'cute fluffy thing'." Diesel gave it a few moments of thought before continuing, "You remind me of a coyote pup that my dad once had. How 'bout I call you 'Kai'."

After observing it continuing with its meal, Diesel nodded to himself affirmatively, "Kai. That's your name."

Kai lifted his head from Diesel's lap and stared into the eyes of its new companion. It was quite surprising how quickly this animal became comfortable with Diesel. To Diesel's credit, though, he did have a thing with animals.

Diesel stroked the head of his new pet,"Maybe I'll have someone to watch my back out here after all."

* * *

 **Author's Note: So yeah, finishing this chapter consumed a lot of my Thanksgiving break, but it was for you guys, and it has been an unholy amount of time since you folks have last heard from me. So I suppose I owed all y'all. Also, you'll have a cudo point from the most genuine bottom of my heart if you can tell me what animal Diesel has befriended, even though he ate two of them first. (Everyone except you, Nazijoker1997. You don't get to tell anyone, because you already know the whole synopsis of the story.)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I'm FINALLY back! Sorry 'bout that long silence. The laptop that I was using to type these chapters was no longer functioning. Long story short: I eventually got around to fixing it and finishing the chapter by getting the chapters onto a different computer even after the battery died and I lost the power cord. But, enough of my ranting. Hope y'all enjoy. The next chapter won't be as long until being uploaded.**

* * *

Chapter 10: A Farmer's Friend

Kel awoke to the shining of one of the suns in her eyes. Today was one of the days that she was pretty much free to do as she pleased. Every eight days, the younglings of the keep were not required to occupy their time with studies of combat of one form or another.

She hopped out of bed and headed for some breakfast, which today consisted of simple colo meat, but it was a well prepared morsel.

Her father had left for military duty two days ago, so she supposed that she'd go visit her friend Ra'dash, and elderly Sangheili farmer and a military veteran of the Covenant.

She rather enjoyed his company. He was a kind old man, and was full of much sagely wisdom. In a way, he was like an overly aged uncle to her.

She went to her room and undressed herself from her sleeping garments and redressed herself with her regular attire.

She was about to exit her home when she heard her mother's voice behind her, "You intend to visit with Ra'dash again, yes?" It was more of a statement waiting to be confirmed than a question.

Kel confirmed with a nod, "Yes, mother."

Rali outstretched her hand to Kel and handed her something. Kel took it and noticed it was one of Mother's favorite baked treats, wrapped neatly in a paper.

"Give Ra'dash my regards," Rali said.

Kel smiled gleefully to her mother, "I will."

"And be sure to bring you plasma pistol with you."

Kel smiled with a sigh, "I have it with me already."

Kel was about to walk out the door before she remembered something.

She went to her brother's room to find that he was boxing with a wooden post that he had set up to use to harden his knuckles. This was a routine for him every few days or so. Always being the target for much teasing and fighting with his peers, this was one way that he vented his irritating and honed his weaponless combat skills at the same time.

Kel sighted in a downcast manner. Outside of the house there was little she could do to give support to her brother, and it made her feel like and inadequate sibling, despite her inability to aid the situation. The fact that she was female gave her quite a bit of protection through social stigma that prevented ostracism on her part to develop past anything but verbal degradation, at least from the males. But, with the other females, she didn't encounter much conflict at all, much less physical fighting. Most of it derived amongst the males of the keep.

Fa'nak on the other hand was not so fortunate. He was already teetering on the brink of political war as it was, with the situation with his father and all that. Receiving pushback from others concerning the infighting with the younglings of the keep from someone other than the instructors was sure to push things over the edge. In many aspects, Fa'nak had no support but himself, and he knew it. He was not at all regretful that he knew his father, but the situation still aggravated him greatly. He was just a little but smaller that than most other males, and that didn't help when he needed to defend himself from physical attack.

Kel inhaled deeply and sighed before entering Fa'nak's room.

"Fa'nak," she said aloud as to be heard over the thumping on the post and the heavy breathing of her brother.

Fa'nak stopped what he was doing and turned to face his sister.

"I am going to visit with Ra'dash. Do you wish to come as well?"

"I appreciate the offer, but no, not this time," he responded tersely.

She could hear in his voice that he was trying to not be rude, but he was not wanting to be disturbed and would've much rather just kept doing what he was doing already.

"Alright," she accepted.

She headed out of the house and through the keep streets. The farm was outside the walls so she had a few units of walking to do but it was nothing she wasn't used to.

The streets were busy with merchants selling merchandise and the like; a day in the keep as per usual.

Kel was walking along when she heard a familiar voice call out to her, "Kel."

She turned to the direction of the noise to be greeted by Fili, a good friend of Kel's. And, accompanying Fili close behind was Tira; another mutual friend and sparring partner. Of the two, Fili was generally the most outspoken and was the one to keep conversations alive.

"Where are you headed?" Fili asked with a polite smile.

Kel responded with equally kind manners, "I am going to visit with Ra'dash."

"You mean the farmer outside the walls?" she clarified in a playfully sarcastic manner, "You do that almost every time you have a day to spend as you please."

"If he were a few dozen cycles younger," Tira entered the banter, "I would think that you found him attractive."

Fili and Tira giggled at their own joke while Kel rolled her eyes with a slight grin at the corner of one of her mandibles, "It's not like that. He is more like an uncle to me. And, also, that jest is both old and unamusing."

"Oh, it must be a little amusing," Fili defended, "You _are_ slightly smiling after all."

Kel shook her head as a full grin crossed her mandibles.

"Well," Fili changed the direction of the subject, "I suppose that Dirjir already had his intentions for you, so, even if Ra'dash was young enough, he would not have much of a chance."

"I am the daughter of the Keep Lord," Kel rhetorically retorted in a playful manner, "Every male in the keep and a few other keeps wish me as their mate."

"Yes," Fili continued, "but _Dirjir_ wants you. What female within ten units wouldn't seek Dirjir? He is by far the most combat effective male of his age, and it seems he is well on his way to becoming a swordsman."

"And he is much less of a braggart about his own accomplishments than any of the other males," Tira added.

"And he does not harass you brother like the others, either," Fili continued.

"He only does that to appeal to me and my father," Kel stated flatly, "If he really cared, he would use his spare time to teach Fa'nak how to fight the other males effectively like he does. The only reason I do not is that Fa'nak is beginning to surpass me in this, so my tutoring would be of little use."

"And," Kel continued, "the only reason he brags less than the other males is that he already has females flocking to him like a herd of colo to a pasture of brown grass."

"Anyway," Kel changed the subject, "I should start walking if I am to meat Ra'dash in a timely manner."

"Kel" they both said with a little disappointment in their voices before Fili continued, "Are you sure you do not want to do something else. Maybe we all could go together and tease the other males of the keep."

"I appreciate the offer but no. Farewell to the both of you." And with that Kel continued her way to the keep's gate. She stepped outside the walls and kept walking to her destination. It did not take long for her to get to the house before knocking on the door.

The door aptly swung open to reveal an elderly man behind it. He was clothed in old cloth and worn colo leather. His haggard gray skin told of many stories that were forever etched into his complexion. His silver eyes maintained a sparkle that resembled that of a chipper individual. Upon seeing the young woman his mandibles stretched into a wrinkled smile of joy.

"Good morning," Kel greeted with a smile.

"Please, come in," came the deep and gravelly voice of Ra'dash, "You and your family are always welcome to my abode."

Kel closed the door behind her and stretched out her hand, "My mother sends her regards."

The old man took the wrapped treat and opened it. Upon realizing what it was he looked to Kel and nodded with a smile, "My favorite. Give my thanks to your mother."

"Well," Kel began, "If I did not come at a good time-"

"I always have time to teach younglings and tell stories to them," Ra'dash interrupted, "Now is as good of a time as any… I am assuming that you would like to continue in your training of swordsmanship."

Kel nodded in confirmation, "Yes."

"I suppose then there is no use in delaying," Ra'dash said, "Come along then."

For a cycle or so, Ra'dash had been secretly teaching Kel swordsmanship. Ra'dash was a swordsman when he served in the Covenant army, and the only ones who knew of his secret classes with Kel were her immediate family; her parents and her brother. Yuk was pleased to have his daughter learn such a well respected art at such a young age. Acquiring such a trait required years of practice that was usually not exercised until after a male officially entered the military. It wasn't particularly taboo for a female to learn swordsmanship even though it wasn't really heard of, but the stigma that Yuk's family was always suffering was sure to find something wrong with it. Keeping this whole matter covert was simply the easiest thing to do.

Kel followed Ra'dash to a hatch in the floor that lead into a somewhat "secret" basement. The dark underground structure was dimly illuminated by candles that were fueled by none other than colo oil. Lining the walls were all assortments of weapons ranging from plasma and needler pistols along with the rifle variants of each. The place also had a few energy swords. Scattered across a workbench was an array of weapon parts that were disassembled and scattered about the tabletop in piles of organized chaos. This was where Ra'dash would repair and modify his equipment.

Sauntering over to a corner of the rectangular room, Ra'dash acquired some energy swords.

"I want to begin teaching something new to you today," Ra'dash said, "You have come along well in your single handed swordplay, but I wish to teach you how to effectively dual wield."

Kel's whole face light up with excitement, "Really? I have been eager to learn this for quite some time now! I was wondering when you would teach it to me."

Ra'dash smiled with a nod, "I know. It would seem that today, the gods have favored your eagerness. Now," he spoke while handing the two inactive swords handles to her, "Assume your combat-ready stance."

Kel activated the swords and complied.

Ra'dash began instructing, "If done properly, wielding two swords in combat is always more advantageous than only using one. But you must always be more mindful of both of your hands while using two separate weapons. It can be easy to become unaware of one arm because you are too focused on only using the other. In other words, you must become fully ambidextrous with your swords and learn to use then simultaneously."

Ra'dash didn't even pause but continued, "After some practice, it will become intuitive and natural for you, but while you're beginning this style of fighting be careful to not touch those swords to anything but the hologram."

"Now," Ra'dash finished as a hologram of a Sangheili figure illuminated in the center of the room, "With this in mind, apply what I have just said to the basics that you already know about single-sword combat."

Kel began gracefully swinging and swiping at the hologram with rapid succession of each blade. It wasn't even four cycles until Ra'dash said, "Stop."

Kel complied immediately and turned her eyes to her master.

"You have aptly applied what I said. It would seem that you were more predisposed to this art than I previously anticipated," Ra'dash commended, "It seems we should skip directly to the sparing."

The sparing session was uneventful except that when Ra'dash began increasing the speed of the "fight" Kel's foot slipped from under her and collided with a few large porcelain earns in a very dark corner of the room, almost knocking a few over.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"There is no need to be," Ra'dash waved her apology off, "I needed to find your limits using these new techniques… Well, I think that is enough for today. You should be getting back to your house."

"Alright then," Kel acknowledged.

With that the two walked out of the basement, and the old man closed the hatch behind him once he was out.

What the two Sangheili didn't know was that they weren't the only ones in the underground structure. And Kel almost stepped on his foot when she bumped into the vases.

 _That was way too close,_ he thought to himself after poking his head out from over the jars.

* * *

Kel was on her way back to the keep after giving Ra'dash her final adieu and thanks for the lessons. The walk back home was uneventful and she was ready for some lunch. She entered the house and immediately smelled food. That meant the meal was already being prepared.

Kel entered the dining room to find her mother and brother already waiting for her to arrive.

"Ah, Kel, you're just on time," Rali said.

With that, she sat down with her family. Before eating, Rali offered a prayer to the gods, "Mighty Forerunners, we again beseech you to hear our prayers and bring great blessings to our family. We ask that you keep my husband strong, as he is away fighting for the cause that you have set before us. We pray that he would be victorious in battle, and come home safely to us again. We also thank you for the food that you have provided for us today, as you have always done so faithfully. Let it be good nourishment, and may it invigorate us to do our best in exacting your will in such a way that both befitting to us and acceptable to you."

With that, the three of them began eating their stew.

Noting that there was no one else in the room but those three, Rali began, "Kel, how was the visit?"

Kel swallowed her mouth-full before replying, "It was well. He has begun teaching me the art of duel wielding swords. Aside from that, it was in no way unusual."

"That is pleasing to hear," Rali responded to her daughter, "You must be advancing fairly quickly in you skills to have begun training with two blades."

The banter at the table continued. It was all mostly between Kel and her mother. Fa'nak wasn't one to engage in conversation much. He wasn't sullen or anything. He just wasn't much of a talker. His sister would often engage with him to let him know that she cared, and he appreciated that. Sometimes he could hold a conversation for a few cycles, but that was not usual. He generally preferred to just listen.

The rest of the day was not busy, but Kel liked it a little like that. Every eight days, she didn't have to do anything unless she wanted to.

The night cycle was nearing, so she and Fa'nak prepared themselves for bed. Tomorrow was another day to train at the keep.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I'm glad to finally be back in the business of writing this story. As always, any and all constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged. Give you thoughts on the story so far and what not. With that said, I'm looking forward to the next chapter, How 'bout y'all?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Alright... The next chapter's finally here. I'll have more to say after you get done reading this chapter.**

* * *

Chapter 11: Recovery

Diesel sighed as he sat down at a tree and laid his back against it. Raising his newly cooked morsel of meat to his mouth, he bit off a bite-sized piece and began eating. It wasn't much, but the small rat-like animal was a better meal than no meal at all. It wasn't as if he didn't have enough to eat. He had captured plenty of these little creatures and had some to spare. These things just weren't very appetizing, but truth be told, he'd been through plenty worse. The extra few carcasses that Diesel didn't eat, he fed to his pet.

The carcasses of those canine-like creatures had long since began rotting, making them unsafe to eat. It was good while it lasted though. He had all that he could eat for a few days. Once they became inedible, he was back to hunting these smaller creatures.

Diesel peered down at his left arm. He had taken the splint off it three days ago, but still kept it protected in a sling that he made from the T-shirt wrappings that once held the splint together.

Reminding himself that a human bone required an average of six earth weeks to fully heal, he guessed that he had been on the planet for maybe three weeks, given that the bone was holding itself together even though it was still sore. He was able to use it in minor tasks, like holding his meat, but that was about the extent of it.

As he continued to eat, he looked down at his pet laying beside him, simply eating away at his food that Diesel gave to him. Diesel did confirm a while ago that it was male.

The first four days that Diesel had "adopted" this creature were definitely the hardest. Diesel was strongly suspicious that the little guy wasn't going to live long. But he managed to pull through, and was continually gaining strength.

Diesel lowered his right hand to Kai's head and patted it gently, _You just might prove to be useful one day, you tough little tyke_.

Diesel was consistently able to produce fire and reliably hunt for his food. As of right now, Diesel needed to start getting his bearings. He didn't know _where_ he was. He had oriented himself with the surrounding topography, learning where the water was and whatnot, but he needed a broader picture than that to properly realize his situation. Harkening back to his memories in the ship's prison he remembered what the jackal called this place, "Sanghelios," Diesel muttered aloud to himself.

 _What does that even mean?_ He silently wondered to himself. The name didn't sound familiar to him in the least, so he still didn't have any idea. Given that he was strong enough and his arm had recovered enough, he figured that tomorrow he was going to hike in a few different directions. He needed to understand _where_ he was so that he could develop a plan as to how to get out of there; out of that sinfully hot desert.

But that was a task for tomorrow. For the rest of the day he was just going to relax as best he could. He needed the rest.

With that he reached into his pocket and pulled his book out. It was Boomer's book: the one that he gave to Diesel right before he died. Diesel had entirely forgotten that it was in his pocket until the morning after he had found Kai. He was also surprised to find that he still had his dad's dog tags around his neck. When he thought about it, he would've imagined that his captors would've checked for things like it, and then have taken them away if they found it. For a brief moment Diesel's eyes began to get misty, but he immediately pushed the feeling back. There was no sense in getting fussy about it again, not right now.

He simply opened the book and shifted through the pages, looking reminiscently on each of the fond memories, many of which he barely remembered. About half of the booklet was comprised of pictures from before he was even born.

He saw pictures of his three older brothers and his parents. He was always told that he looked like his mother. He supposed that it was difficult for him to see it because he lost her when he was six, and therefore didn't have as much of a familiarity as he should.

He didn't remember his father very well either, but every memory Diesel had of him, he remembered Axel as a stalwart and tender-hearted guardian.

His two oldest brother's, Dirk and Jacob, were like that, even if not as much as their father. They were the best brothers anyone could have. They were there for each other through thick and thin, and were always there when Dad couldn't be.

Then there was Boomer-oh, so unshakable Boomer. Despite everything that ever happened, against every hardship and cruelty of the world, he never let his little brother down. After Diesel and Boomer were the only two left, he stepped up and took his father's place in just about every aspect of Diesel's life. And for what it was worth, Diesel supposed that Boomer did the best that anyone could have.

Diesel guessed that in many ways, that was why he always thought that Boomer looked like their dad. But now they were all gone, and he was alone; alone and stranded on a planet completely unfamiliar to him. He literally had no possible help as far as he was aware, and he wasn't even sixteen yet. He grew up hard and fast, but still wasn't even considered a man. He was an underage boy with no help for his every necessity but himself, and potentially on a hostile planet whose inhabitants would kill him if they were aware of his presence. And besides that, the blistering weather was passively fighting him against his very survival.

Diesel closed the booklet and placed it back into his pocket before he could develop a lump in his throat.

The night time was drawing near, so he figured that he would do best to go to sleep early so that he would be well rested for the morning. He still hadn't got used to the fact that the days were a bit longer on this planet than on Kholo. The nights were only like very dim and overcast days, and even then it was still terribly arid.

He began walking toward his little shelter before beckoning his "dog" to follow him, to which Kai aptly obeyed.

Diesel was impressed by this. Even though he planned to train the creature to obey verbal commands at some point, he hadn't yet found the time to administer the training. And yet, here the little guy was, simply complying after the first instruction to come along.

 _This whole training thing just might be a bit easier than I was initially expecting_ , Diesel smirked to himself. He was relieved to have some good luck for a change.

Once he reached his shelter he lay underneath its covering and wrapped Kai close to his side, secured by his right arm.

The shelter he had built just the day before wasn't too impressive. Given the fact that he only had one functioning arm, Diesel didn't have the time or energy to make a better one. But hey, it was better than sleeping under a bush like he had been before he constructed this thing. It was merely a tent-like structure about half a meter tall. It was made of fallen branches and foliage. The foliage was meant to further shelter him from the sun, and to keep the rain off.

As of yet Diesel didn't have any idea if rain even existed in this place, or even on this entire planet for that matter. When he thought about it, he didn't remember seeing a single cloud since he arrived. But, preparing for rain was simply an old habit that he learned to form the hard way. The _first_ time was enough, and he never needed to be in _that_ situation again.

Diesel closed his eyes and drifted into a relaxed sleep, with Kai doing the same; curled up into a comfy ball of blond fur at Diesel's side.

* * *

Diesel awoke at the usual time. He had noticed that he was gradually adapting to this planet's day/night patterns, but it was still a little dark. He figured that, eventually, he would fully adjust, but he guessed that wouldn't be for several more weeks.

His arm was doing as well as could be expected, and there were still no signs of recurring infection.

 _Glad to have some good luck for a change_ , he mused to himself.

Not two seconds later he heard a deep and loud rumble that was all too familiar to him. His gaze shifted immediately through the trees and towards the sky. It was thunder. He realized that part of the reason that it was still dark was because it was overcast.

Fairly certain of what was to come, he used his right arm to take off his boots and pants, before tucking them under the shelter that he slept under. If it was going to rain, he'd rather have dry clothes.

Not two minutes later little droplets of water began falling. Quite soon, it was a full blown rainfall. Diesel was completely soaked. He noticed that Kai was hiding under the dry canopy of the shelter.

 _Well_ , Diesel thought to himself, _the good luck was nice while it lasted_. It looked like the hike was going to have to wait.

The rain was warm, though, so it was actually a refreshing shower. Speaking of which, it was a while since the last time Diesel had bathed. That said, maybe the rain wasn't such a bad thing after all.

* * *

Diesel woke up when the morning began to get brighter. Once the rain stopped yesterday, he had to wait a while before the air dried him off. Getting his pants back on was a little cumbersome, but because his left arm was becoming more useful, tying his boot laces was not as bad as it could have been either.

The day (apart from the heat) was ideal for scouting around the unknown surroundings of the topography. He had planned to cross the river and head in the direction that he first found the canine-like animals. He supposed that his chances of finding more wildlife in that direction was greater that any others.

"Kai," Diesel beckoned with authority in his voice, "Let's go."

Kai immediately understood and arose from his resting position and began following alongside his master.

Diesel grabbed the plasma rifle from beneath the shelter and held it as best as he could. His left arm was still too early in the healing process to hold heavier objects like the front end of a rifle.

A thought immediately occurred to Diesel. He peered down at his gun and then at his left arm, before turning his gaze in the opposite direction of the river. That was the direction of the crash site. It was where he broke his arm and where he acquired his rifle after the crash.

Diesel gritted his teeth. He wasn't sure if he should go and investigate it. It was about three weeks old and he wasn't certain if he would find anything useful. But then again, that was kind of the point. If he did find something he could use, the trip would be worth it. The site wasn't far from the timberline, so it wasn't as if he was risking a deadly exposure to the suns.

With that, he made his decision: he'd investigate the crash.

With all this scouting around that he planned to do, he wasn't going to have much time to hunt. At the moment, though, he already had five cooked carcasses of those rat-things, so he would manage for the rest of the day: the carcasses would last for two days before they went bad. He wasn't sure how Kai was going to handle it though. Unless he caught something of his own, he wasn't going to eat for the rest of the day. It wasn't as if Diesel was going to go hungry for his pet. His own needs were the priority and, if need be, Kai was expendable.

Diesel began walking toward his destination, with his dog in tow.

* * *

Diesel reached the place that he was sure that the wreckage was, but he found nothing there. No ship fragments, no footprints in the sand, nothing. He glanced back at the timberline, trying his best to recall the images of when he first crashed and headed into the forest. He was certain that this was the place, but there was no evidence to indicate such a thing.

A daunting realization hit Diesel square in the forehead.

There was no use in standing out in the open like this, so he called to Kai before heading back into the forest.

* * *

This was bad. Bad bad bad, very bad. He hadn't fully thought about it until now, but there were other intelligent beings on this planet. There was no way that any number of animals, for any reason, would take a chunk of metal that big, and in such relatively short time, at that.

He dug deep into his memories to remember something that the jackal told him aboard the ship. It told him that this planet was the destination of the ship that they were on. This was a Covenant planet. Consequently it had to have been well inhabited if it was a stopping place for a whole super carrier.

Diesel quietly growled in frustration and anger, and almost stomped his foot on the ground in a fit of rage, but he restrained himself. Now was the least of times that he could afford to let his emotions influence his actions: he needed to be decisive and mathematical about this. He couldn't afford to screw up, not now.

He began putting the pieces together in his head to get a "lay of the land" as it were. He had nothing but a pet and a plasma rifle, of which he didn't know how many shots he had left. He didn't now how to read the symbols on the display. He was on a Covenant controlled planet, and had a broken arm. It was healing, but it was still broken.

He concluded that he wasn't going anywhere until his arm was fully functional, that was non-negotiable. It would be about another three Earth weeks before then, so he had some time to mentally come to grips with the situation.

The only thing at the moment that he had to worry about was food, and he wasn't worried about that at all. So far he was having no trouble with catching his usual meals, and he had no foreseeable reason that it would become an issue.

He was just going to take it as easily as he could until his arm was fully healed. Boring, perhaps, but it was the best option available to him at the moment.

* * *

Diesel's arm felt good. There was no pain, and he waited a few days afterwards to be sure. After putting pressure on it in a few different ways, it was clear that his arm was, indeed, fully healed. It was a little weak from lack of use as one should expect, but that was an easy fix. Miraculously, it didn't appear to be crooked in any way. He couldn't even feel anything wrong with it. Diesel had splinted the fracture perfectly. An amazed and relieved grin crossed Diesel's face. His good luck was on a roll. He wondered how long _that_ would last. He immediately stopped thinking about it. Jinxing it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Now that his arm was all better, he knew that he had been there for about six weeks. After that, though, he had no idea of how he'd keep track of time. In the long run he probably wasn't going to. Diesel knew that he had a metabolism that was higher than average, so his arm might have healed just a little faster than usual, so he still didn't have an exact coordination of time.

Diesel simply shrugged. It wasn't that important, and there was not much he could do about it anyway.

Diesel began harkening back to what little he remembered about Covenant forces. To his recollection, their ground forces would usually attack during the day whenever they invaded a planet, and the activity would subside during the night. This meant that they were more likely to be diurnal creatures. If Diesel ever encountered any Covie settlements or anything, he intended to make concerted efforts to not go during the day.

With those few decisions in mind, Diesel prepared to depart. Because he had built a small smoke shed that he made from small logs, sticks and moss, he had enough food to last a few days without hunting. Even though his arm was still in a little pain while he built it, he _did_ get the job done. It was only about a one cubic meter box that trapped smoke, but at the moment it was enough for one teenager and a baby alien dog.

The OD green cloth scraps that was once his T-shirt, later his splint, and lastly the sling that held his left arm, were pretty much useless by this point. He certainly wasn't going to filter water with those filthy rags, and they weren't long enough strips to tie anything together, not really. The only other use he found for them was something to lay his head on when he slept.

He needed a new shirt. Even under the cover of the forest trees he had a visible tan, and he didn't want to risk any kind of over-exposure. It would only get even worse when he started venturing outside the timberline. A shirt was a lesser necessity in this environment.

Because he never saw any non-animal activity in the forest, he deduced that whoever took the ship wreckage must be in the opposite direction; somewhere out in the sand.

He loaded his pant pockets with smoked meat, grabbed his rifle and headed out. He didn't take four steps before he heard another pair of steps behind him. Diesel turned to see Kai eagerly following his master.

Diesel shook his head, "No Kai. Stay here."

Kai seemed to take notice of Diesel's voice. Diesel began to slowly backpedal before Kai took a step forward.

"No," Diesel commanded in a calm yet stern voice as he pointed his index finger in Kai's direction, "Stay."

To this, Kai hesitated for a moment before sitting on his haunches. Diesel resumed his cautious backpedaling. This time, Kai didn't move, but he did begin to let out an unambiguous whine.

Diesel was going into the unknown to search for Covenant settlements. The last thing he needed was an animal tagging alone to give away his position. That already happened once with Korona and Tucker, and it ultimately, in an indirect way, cost Boomer his life. Diesel wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

Diesel turned around and headed for the timberline.

* * *

Diesel reached the place were the crash site used to be before stopping. He peered around for any sign of which direction to go. This was as far this direction that he ever went. He began thinking about when he first crashed here, but immediately cleared his mind. Now was not the time to reminisce. He simply chose to keep marching forward. That direction was as good of a guess as any.

It was late afternoon, so he expected the night to come soon. He had been walking in a straight direction for a while now, but saw no signs of anything, except sand; he found plenty of sand. That was, until his vision cleared one particularly large dune. Diesel didn't recoil at the sight, but did duck slightly in a gesture of caution. He walked at a crouch till he could look over the top again. Off in the far distance was an unmistakable visage of a city. The buildings were purple and varied in height. It was the same kind of color as most of the Covenant's technology. The city was surrounded by a tall wall, with large gates to allow entry. Diesel figured that this was the destination of that super carrier that he was aboard.

The topography that surrounded the city, however, was green and lush, instead of dry and sandy. He couldn't tell from this distance, but it looked like the ground over there was more dirt and less sand.

Something else quickly caught his eye. Nearer to him than the city, stood a small building that looked most likely to be a rectangular hut. It was almost square. They were also long fences surrounding the hut that held what Diesel assumed to be livestock. They were unlike anything that he had seen before, but they looked like a cross between a camel and cow. As of yet they hadn't taken notice of him.

Something immediately captivated his attention like a spooked deer. Amidst the livestock was a bipedal figure. Even from this distance he could clearly make out its features. It was a digitigrade with two massive toes and had unmistakable two fingered hands with a pair of opposable thumbs on each hand. The spindly four-appendaged mandible made it unmistakable. It was an elite. It didn't wear any armor, but that fact didn't conceal its identity from Diesel. It wore what Diesel assumed to be a kind of robe that was designed for this hot weather. Its bald head was a dull hue of dark grey.

Diesel's blood ran cold as he slowly moved back and ducked behind the cover of the dune. Diesel clenched his teeth. What he was planning to do was crazy, borderline insane, but he was quite sure that were there was an elite, there was supplies. He hoped he could find weapons. But, he wasn't ready to do that just yet. He needed to observe this elite for a few days to get acquainted with its movements. Then he would break in and see what he could find.

That was a task for another day. Right now, Diesel could feel that he was getting more than a comfortable amount of exposure from the suns. With that, Diesel made his way back to the forest.

* * *

When Diesel got back, he immediately set to work on finding large leaves and pieces of bark. What he intended to do was use the sheet of bark as something to lie down on in the sand so that he wouldn't get burned on his belly.

What he did with the big green leaves was tie then together to make a crude cape to cover his back. It wasn't much. But right now, it was all he had. He used the old strips of cloth that once was his shirt to help tie the leaves together and provide a little extra surface area to cover his back. Every bit of covering helped.

He figured that these extra implements would keep him sheltered enough from the sun. Essentially he planned to use the next few days to stalk and observe that small hut and the residence within, all the while, resting prone from the peak of a dune.

* * *

Diesel had been observing the hut for several days. He even stayed awake for a few nights to see if the elite had any nocturnal habits. He concluded that it didn't. He also figured that there was only one elite that lived in the hut. This elite seemed to be a farmer of sorts. It would wake up every morning and tend to the livestock for the first half of the day before spending the rest of it inside the hut. Diesel figured that this was due to the extreme heat of the afternoon.

The leaves had kept his back from burning, just as he hoped, and the bark did its job as well. The biggest problem that Diesel had right now was water. He didn't have any container to carry around with him, and the only river was back in the forest.

However, there was a small stream next to the hut. This was where the animals would drink. A few times during the night, Diesel ventured down and took a few quick drinks before hurrying back to the safety of the sand dune. When he went down there, the livestock certainly kept their distance, but didn't seem to act like he was a serious threat. Diesel found that interesting. They certainly were domesticated, but he was sure that a human was completely unfamiliar to them.

Today, however, was the day that Diesel worked up the nerve to infiltrate the hut. He was hoping to find some weapons, and maybe even something to be used as a water container so that he wouldn't have to be so near a water source all the time. It would give him some flexibility with how long he could stay out and whatnot.

Diesel waited for night to fall before making his way out of the forest and in the direction of the hut. He had taken long naps during the day to help ready himself to go during the night. Just as he suspected, there was no activity. Even the livestock seemed to be mostly asleep.

With stealth like a cat and caution like a mouse, Diesel approached the house, carefully placing each and every step as to keep his boots from making noise. None of the animals appeared to notice him, so he was doing well so far. He was going to sneak in, see what he could find, and sneak out without raising any alarm. As there seemed to only be one resident in the house, Diesel had considered killing it, but thought better of it. This place was obviously a home, so there might have been a chance that there would occasionally be visitors. Given that this elite had livestock, it would at least have some kind of contact to sell the meat and fur of its animals. Diesel needed to find out more about this place before doing anything drastic.

Then again, one might consider what he was now doing to be _very_ drastic.

Maintaining his crouched position, Diesel silently opened the door and entered before shutting it behind himself. Diesel peered around the dimly lit room and began searching around. The place had a smell reminiscent of old furniture. The entire place was silent, which Diesel took as good news. Diesel naturally had good night vision, and the fact that the nights here were only like dim and overcast mornings lent to giving Diesel no trouble with navigating around the hut.

The tables and stools were quite tall, which made sense with an elite living here. He spotted a collection of jars that appeared to be made of clay that might be usable for a water container. He planned to take one on his way out. He didn't seem to find any weapons though. This was quite disappointing, but this didn't discourage him from continuing his search. He had to keep track of time though. He needed to be gone well before daybreak.

He spotted some cabinets and decided to take a look. Upon examination, he could tell that they were made of wood. He opened them to reveal the contents and stopped for a moment when he saw what was inside. He hesitantly pulled one of the items out and put it in his mouth. It was as he suspected.

 _Smoked jerky_ , he inwardly groaned with satisfaction as he slowly chewed.

They were wrapped in hand sized bundles with a string. Diesel took two bundles. He would have taken them all, but that would have been overly suspicious when the owner found that they were all gone. Besides, he didn't have a sack in which he could carry them… unless he used one of the jars. But, then again, that would have required that he carry it with his whole arm, and he had to carry his plasma rifle in the other. If he carried only two bundles by the strings, he could still fit another item or two in his hand, depending on the size.

In another of the cabinets, he found a purple, metallic container with a cap on it. He opened it to find nothing inside. It didn't even possess a lingering scent of anything. Diesel grinned. If he had to make a guess, he'd have guessed that it was a water container. It looked to be about one-and-half liters. He was definitely taking that.

He continued poking around until something on the floor caught his attention. It was under what Diesel assumed to be a couch, which was against the wall. If he hadn't been crouched he wouldn't have spotted it. He approached and examined his finding. It seemed to be a handle, and his conjecture was confirmed when he lifted it, revealing a hatch that obviously lead down to an underground basement. He couldn't lift it all the way because the bottom of the sofa obstructed the motion, so he ever gingerly moved the furniture out of the way. It was easy to lift, so he didn't have any trouble with keeping it quiet. He opened the latch and headed down. He kept it open to let some light enter.

Despite his night vision he was still having difficulty seeing. What he could see, though, were weapons; lots and lots of weapons, most of which Diesel recognized. There were plasma rifles and needlers, each accompanied by their pistol variants. There were also plasma swords.

He could see that in one of the corners of the room, there was what Diesel assumed to be a type of work bench. On top of it, there were scattered assortments of things. Upon closer examination, he supposed that they were weapon parts, as there were a few pieces that he recognized as such. Over in an adjacent corner were what appeared to be about eight urns, which were over a meter in height.

There was a thump from upstairs. Diesel froze. The noise continued, and Diesel immediately recognized it as footsteps, and they seemed to be getting closer to the hatch in the floor. Thinking quickly, he positioned himself behind the jars and made sure that his rifle wasn't poking out anywhere. The footsteps stopped for a frozen moment before Diesel heard them descending the stairs.

Diesel's grip on his rifle loosened as he readied himself to fight. He would need to use surprise to his advantage. Despite his increased heart rate, he slowed his breathing and used his mouth instead of his nose to keep silent. He could feel perspiration forming on his hair-covered forehead, and his palms were becoming moist.

The footsteps carefully sauntered around the room, inspecting it most likely. He wasn't sure for how long, but it seemed like minutes. But, to Diesel's surprise, the footsteps made their way back up the stairs, and closed the hatch. Diesel could hear the couch being repositioned over the floor boards. It was then, in the pitch black of the basement that Diesel let out a tense sigh, before relaxing his breathing.

He was now in a bad situation. As far as he could discern, all he could do was wait until the activity stopped. He'd have to get out of there when the elite went back to bed.

* * *

The elite never went to sleep again that night, as evidenced by the constant noise upstairs. And Diesel was sure that it was daytime by now. He'd have to wait until the next nightfall. He figured the best thing he could do was take a nap, but the stress of the situation kept him awake. This was going to be the longest wait he had in a long time.

Diesel's ears perked at an unfamiliar sound. It sounded like speech, but it was garbled, and it was muffled by the floor that separated Diesel from the sound's origin. He focused, and he could have sworn he heard two voices conversing with each other.

Diesel froze as he heard the sofa above the basement scraping against the floor and the hatch being opened a few seconds later.

He could hear two sets of footsteps walking down the stairs. The room suddenly became just a little bit brighter. Based on the flicker of the light, Diesel recognized it as candle light.

He then heard a deep and gravelly voice begin making sounds that were unmistakably speech, but Diesel didn't know what it was. What he did notice, though, was that it was just like what the guards would use when Diesel was aboard the ship. This only made sense due to the fact that this was an elite's house.

When the voice finished in what sounded like the conclusion of a sentence, another voice responded. It sounded less harsh than the first, but the language was still a rough string of garbled consonants with few vowels in between. In a few ways it reminded him of a cross between Welsh and German. He never learned those languages, but he did know what they sounded like.

Diesel's breath caught in his throat when he heard the all too familiar sound of energy swords being activated. He continued silently breathing, when he found a small crack between urns and peeked through. After about thirty seconds of observation, he guessed that the bigger elite with the bigger voice was tutoring the smaller one with swords, but Diesel wasn't sure. The smaller one was moving around when its foot slid and bumped into the urn right next to Diesel's foot.

Diesel's blood pressure spiked as his adrenaline was making him start to shake.

It was then that after an exchange in their language, the elites walked out of the basement and closed the hatch.

Diesel peeked from behind the urn and let out a breath that he had been holding.

 _That was way too close._

* * *

Diesel waited for night to fall. He couldn't tell by the light, as he was in an underground room, but several hours of silence indicated that the elite had gone to sleep.

He looked around for a few items. He took an energy sword and placed it in the pocket of his pants. He then proceeded to take one plasma rifle and replaced it with his own. He figured that it had more shots in it that his own. He then proceeded to take a plasma pistol, a needler and needle pistol. He placed them on the ground in front of the stairs. He then walked up the stairs and opened the hatch, he couldn't open it fully due to the couch, but he would be able to squeeze through.

He placed the metal container and the meat on the floor before doing the same with the weapons, and lastly, with himself.

He wrapped the weapons in his arm like a bundle of sticks before grabbing the container and meat with the other arm and headed out the door. He was cautious to not be too hasty, and watched his surroundings. After he made it over the dune he was home free. He picked up the pace to a run, and didn't stop before he made it to his shelter.

 **Author's Note: So, we've finally got the two story arcs meeting up. As you may have noticed, this chapter was a little longer than usual, which was the result of two primary reasons. The first reason was that this seemed to be the only suitable stopping point for this chain of events. But second of all, I'm a high school senior that is just starting the last half of the second semester, which is going to be the heaviest academic workload that I've ever had (I'm also participating in my school's lacrosse team),** **so I'm probably not even going to get to begin _writing_ the next chapter for another seven or eight weeks. This is all to say that even if you don't receive even so much as a peep from me for quite a while, don't be discouraged, because I'm not giving up on this story. I just have other thing to focus on for some time. Afterwards, I'll have the whole summer to work on this story. After that, though, I will be going into boot-camp in the Marine Corps in September. Marine Corps boot-camp lasts for thirteen weeks, so that will certainly be a time when you all won't be hearing from me _at all_. This is all just to give you a heads-up. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you have any input to give, all you gotta do is click the "review" button and type your thoughts.**


End file.
